When in New York, Don't Fall for a Con
by EarlyMorningWishes
Summary: My name is Ezzy. I have wings, and I'm stuck in New York. But then I meet a con, and get wrapped up in an FBI investigation. Why must my life be so complicated? I mean really, what did I do? OC and no real pairings. Max and the Flock will come in later.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**OMG! My very first crossover...with OC characters as main characters to boot! I worked very hard on this, so please review! I get so sad when I don't see reviews for my strories...

Oh yeah, I don't own Max. Ride (James Patterson does), or White Collar (I don't know off the top of my head who does, but I know it's not me). Thank you for reading!

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My name is Ezzy. Or Izzy if you prefer, but it doesn't really matter right now. Because I am sort of lost, and I'm flying blindly over New York City. As bad as that sounds, no I'm not a pilot of an aircraft with lots of passengers. Thank you God it's just Me, Myself, and I that I will be responsible for killing when I crash.

If you were wondering, no, I wasn't born in a lab, and I didn't grow up in dog crates. But, yes, I have wings. That would be how I'm flying blindly over New York City without an airplane.

Enough about me, let's talk about New York. I love New York. I fell in love with Broadway before I got feathers, and always dreamt of returning. Just not as a bird freak, I was an ordinary human in my dreams.

As much as I would love to watch another production, we weren't here for pleasure. My goal was to reach a business building somewhere in the heart of the city, but wouldn't you know it, I found some erasers. Winged erasers mind you, or else maybe I wouldn't have to be flying haphazardly through New York City to try and elude them.

Apparently they were guards for said building, because another group of bird kids came tearing through some time ago. That or they got tired of hunting mutants and took up being gargoyles for the local buildings. But I doubt that because they were on my like flies to honey when they saw me. I don't know if I want to cheer Max and her Flock on, or beat them for endangering us!

Don't get me wrong, I have admired her ever since I learned about them and what they were doing at the Institute (aka The School). It's not really their fault either, considering they don't know we exist, and even if they did, how could they know what we were planning?

So I concluded that the best idea was to try to lose them. All I had to do was a little dodging and weaving through God knows how many skyscrapers. It shouldn't be too hard, should it?

I should have known better. You see, since I wasn't born with bird DNA, I am not very, um…, _graceful_ while flying, and I can only fly for so long. And the erasers apparently had more experience flying with grafted wings.

So to say I wasn't totally surprised when the eraser chomped down on my leg would be accurate. I still cried out though, because let's face it; I am a softy when it comes to personal pain. And kittens. And puppies. And little kids. Okay, okay, I'm just soft all the way around!

I kicked the eraser in the nose and he let go of my leg, the blood was really flowing, and I could have sworn I saw white bone when I looked at it. There wasn't time to think about it though, as he and his friends were closing in on me.

I went into a straight dive parallel to some office building. I passed about three startled people looking out their windows as I passed, but I didn't bother worrying about them, since I was counting on people seeing me.

The erasers recovered quickly after I started dropping, and were at first right on my heels. But I soon I was within close view of the ground, and all the wonderful, wonderful people crowded in the streets, the bloody erasers had to pull off their chase, until they could revert back into their inner-model.

In the mean time, I pulled my wings in as tightly against my back as I could, and landed on my feet amidst some very startled people. But with the exception of a couple stares and whispers, I was walking down the street unmolested.

As painful as it was, I walked for about an hour, doing everything I could to blend in. I didn't see any erasers the whole time, which I took as a good sign that I lost them. My stomach began rumbling, and I paused for the first time since early this morning.

As it would happen, my poor luck landed me in front of a diner when my stomach decided to say something. I hungrily looked through the window at all the food with greedy, coveting eyes. After a minute or two of imagining myself eating the fancy plates of Italian food, I forced myself to leave, ducking into an alleyway.

The only other person there besides me and an old tabby cat was a homeless person. He looked like he was passed out, and after I lightly kicked his foot, my suspicion was confirmed. I cautiously let my wings out, and began flapping. I took a running start, and jumped as high as I could. I struggled to climb the vertical feet between me and the roof.

After I made it there I collapsed, blood loss and difficult vertical flying having finally caught up with me. I checked my wound for the first time since I escaped my pursuers. It was sluggishly bleeding now, since I had crudely tied the string on my coat around it while I was walking around New York. It still hurt though, and my walking on it probably didn't help either.

I took off the string, and took out an old scarf I saved for just such an occasion. I tied it as tightly as I could manage, and grimaced a little. I was getting cooler in the waning evening, and I was still tired and hungry. I decided to move again, since the erasers might be able to track me through the scent of my blood, and I was weaker than ever.

I ran/hobbled to the other side of the roof I had landed on, and leapt across the way to the residential building beside it. I used my wings to help me glide the large expanse, figuring that my scent would end with the puddle of blood on the roof I left behind me, and my target was harder to get to then the others around it. They should (hopefully) look for me where I was going last, and by then I would be gone.

So I settled by the vent on its veranda, safely hidden behind white stone angels and a little garden. I could just see into the spacious room with a glass door. The lights were on, and I a caught a glimpse of a guy in a suit with a nice-looking hat on.

He looked busy with a painting, so I figured he wouldn't be a problem for the time being. If he tried to come out, I would see it, and had about a dozen escape routes already figured out. While he worked with his painting, I worked a little more on my leg. I took out a little vial of rubbing alcohol I kept in one of the many pockets on my cargo pants for sterilizing.

Before the wings, I learned about how to treat minor wounds in a health occupations class. It has certainly served me well in my attempts to stay alive since we escaped from the Institute. I missed it sometimes, the regular school. I loved learning, especially all my science classes and the health occupations class.

I blinked at the gathering of tears, brushing the little traitors as they fell. I missed my family, and I blamed myself for their deaths, even if there wasn't anything I could have done. Not that I really believed that. There probably was something I could have done, but I couldn't even think of what it was, let alone try to stop what happened.

That's why I was in New York in the first place, because there were six of us slated for experimentation, and their records were in the Institute's New York office. But now I'm wounded and separated from my brother. He and I are all that we have left of our families.

In reality, he's actually my cousin, not brother, but I love him like a brother. He's too young for this; he's just nine years old. But he's quite the trooper. And he had better be at the rendezvous point in the morning_ unharmed_, or I'll kill him myself!

I hunkered down further, and decided it would be wise to try and sleep 'till morning. I packed up the supplies I had taken out to work on my leg and curled into the heat coming out of the vent, letting myself relax slightly, still worrying a little over Ade's safety.

I woke with a start when I heard the glass door opening. I froze where I was, trying to remember _where_ I was. The episode with the erasers came back to me, and I winced at the pain my leg sent me to help me remember.

I watched the nicely-dressed man from last night with the painting carry a newspaper and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in one hand, while holding a phone to his ear with the other hand. "No Peter, I haven't seen the painting since we were at the museum." The man he was talking to said something to make him roll his eyes as he set the paper and food down.

I suddenly found myself drooling and staring at the food. I leaned forward to get a better look at it, and – _**SMASH**_! – The flowerpot I was leaning on fell over. I mentally smacked myself over the head for that one, but the damage was done, the guy turned around when he heard the noise, and probably saw the top of my head before I could finish ducking.

I silently prayed that he didn't. I prayed long and hard in the span of a couple seconds, before my hopes were dashed. "Ah, Peter, I gotta go. I accidently knocked over one of June's flower pots. I'll meet you in thirty minutes. Bye."

I decided to count my blessings as the man approached, at least he didn't tell his buddy what really happened. I moved further back and to the side, and carefully pulled out my hunting knife. I grimaced slightly, because the poor guy was just trying to eat his breakfast in peace when I get myself discovered. But you had to do what you had to do. Besides, if the erasers found him with knowledge of a bird kid, it would be the end of him.

When he passed me, I quickly grabbed one of his arms, and brought my knife up to his throat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry to everyone who has looked all month long, and been left hanging. I know I hate the waiting, and I had every intention of not doing that with my stories. But that funny little four letter word got in the way (_you know, l-i-f-e_). So anyways, sorry it took me so long to get this done and up, but here it is. I'll try to update every two weeks at least, but no promises. (Sorry!) Thank you so much for reading, and I sincerely hope you enjoy!

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"Listen and listen closely," I whispered in the guys ear, and to his credit, he was pretty calm, "I won't hurt you as long as you cooperate. Nod if you understand." He nodded and I continued, "In a minute, I'm going to let you go, and you're going to go back inside. And you'll forget I was ever here. Got it?"

Apparently, the guy had some kind of experience with these situations, because he started talking to me in a soothing voice. "How about we talk just a minute, I mean hey, I know what it's like to be in your shoes. Trust me, I won't turn you in, I don't trust cops, I've been a thief for years. We could have breakfast, and or some wine I have inside."

I wasn't inexperienced in this stuff either, but I knew the danger of the school that he didn't. Although in this case, I decided it might be beneficial to play along for a little bit. I let a little uncertainty creep into my voice, and slackened my hold on his arm a fraction, "I have my own list of things to do today. Why should I listen to _you_, anyway?"

His reaction was subtle, but I caught it all the same. He was buying it, getting confident, and getting ready for the final hook. "You got here without me knowing about it, so you're obviously good at getting in, and probably out, of places. I'm working on a high profile, big money job, and I need another guy to pull it off. If you work with me, I'll give you a cut."

I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult. I mean, really! He thinks I'm just another thug! If anything I am not a thug! So what if I _borrowed_a couple of cars, some food, and some clothes! And maybe or maybe not some-body's boat!

Okay, so maybe I did steal some stuff. But I'm no thug; it was that or die! I mean, isn't that _some_ form of self-defense?

I decided to go a little further with him, if or if not it had anything to do with my pride at this point, "How much are we talking about?"

I applauded myself on my acting skills. He was relaxing already, and I in turn further relaxed my hold. "We're talking a hundred grand per cut," he said with, what I'm sure, was a winning smile, if I could have seen it.

But I should have known that Murphy's Law was in cahoots with my bad luck, because someone started knocking on his door. "Neal? I brought the stuff you asked for."

"Is your door locked," I hissed to him as I dragged him further away from the view of the glass door. He nodded and I told him, "Tell him you'll be there after you pick the flower pot you knocked over."

He repeated what I told him to say, and his friend admonished him to hurry up, or he was leaving. I wanted to put that to the test, and proceed with my first plan, but it was too risky. I paused a minute, again debating what _exactly_I was going to do, when 'Neal' decided to speak." Hey Moz, did Peter _Langley_ call yet?"

"_What are you doing?_" I yanked on his arm as I hissed at him, knowing on instinct that he had used some kind of code. He grimaced slightly, but remained silent, just shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. His lack of verbal response fueled my suspicion.

It was confirmed a moment later as my raptor hearing picked up the muffled and faint sound of a cell phone being dialed.

Which, in reality, my 'raptor hearing' actually wasn't raptor hearing, just better than normal hearing. But calling it raptor hearing makes me feel better.

I quickly abandoned Plan B (which I am willing to admit was just to wing it) in favor of my original Plan A: knock him out and fly away.

So I grabbed the blade of my knife, and promptly hit the guy's pressure point in his neck. I dropped his unconscious body on the ground, and jumped up the vent to the roof. From there I ran across the roof and spread my wings, going as high and as fast as I could.

For once I could say I was actually happy to leave New York. Not that I didn't still want to see a Broadway show before we high-tailed it out of here.

I face-palmed for real this time, tired of my very unhelpful, distracted thoughts. My new goal was to rendezvous with Ade, and so far, I was failing. Considering _I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE I WAS_!

Note to Self: When flying away from a normal human, fly to somewhere you know. _Not blindly at full speed in God knows what direction!_

I started looking for anything familiar, and to my great relief, I saw part of Prospect Park way off to my left, with my raptor vision. Which is the same as my 'raptor hearing' in case you were wondering.

Think of my word choice as chocolate ice cream after you break up with someone. You can stick with your comfort food, and I'll stick with my comfort words. Especially since I don't have a lot of opportunities to sit down and hang out with a pint or two of Ben and Jerry's.

So I started flying straight for the park, looking for the Botanic Gardens in particular. I shortly thereafter made my cautious descent, looking for anyone who was looking my way. I landed between the gardens and Flatbush Ave, safely among the trees. We picked this place ahead of time because it was known for the thickness of its trees, and the lower concentration of people.

I then cautiously picked my way towards the 'road', and crossed it, headed for the…buildings, if they could be called that considering their size. There was a bathroom, a subway access, and food nearby. But more importantly, we would be away from birdwatchers, the bulk of people, and the congestion of the city.

I went to our designated meeting place, and to my great relief, there was Ade.

He hadn't seen me yet, so I waited and watched him. He was tall for his age, due to the intensive gene experiments, and thin. He looked tired, and I could guess he waited up all night for me. His blonde hair was greasy and matted with dirt, but at least he was in one piece.

I was walking up to him when he finally noticed me, but when he did, his face lit up. "EZZY," he shouted running up and throwing his little arms around my neck, squeezing as hard as he could. "Hey there kiddo," I said as I ruffled his hair, forming a mutated mo-hawk of sorts. I laughed, and he mock-scowled at me, trying not to laugh with me.

We walked away from the tree and toward the hot dog vendor, food prevalent on both our minds after our little bonding moment was over.

I walked ahead of Ade, and passed the Hot Dog vendor, taking my place on a park bench, inconspicuously reading a magazine someone had carelessly thrown on the ground. Ade then ran laughing down the path towards the vendor.

He turned his head and waved to some imaginary figure behind him, purposely clipping the vendor's cart. He dramatized a bad fall, and subsequent injury. The vendor ran around his cart and to the bawling boy on the ground, muttering to himself about '_better not be getting sued_'.

While he was running to Ade's side, I got up and went to his cart's side. I walked right behind it, and quickly shoveled two rows of hot dogs into a Wal-Mart bag. Then my dinner bag and I calmly walked away, just looking like a homeless bum with a raised collar and ratty plastic bag that probably contained plastic bottles.

Ade and I had learned this little trick, (among others), to feed ourselves. Now before you get the wrong idea about us, we don't always steal from the poor street vendors, (because I have a really guilty conscious). I mean, let's face it, when you are a mutant freak on the run, you tend to avoid humanity at large, so you won't frequent street vendors.

But as for right here, right now in one of the largest cities in America, you just got to do what you have to do. So I rounded the corner and waited for my brother too caught up, our dinner waiting.

Isn't incredible how your plans, hypothetically speaking, are ruined in an instant by the little unforeseeable things? Like when it rains on a sunny day, or when your date forgets the date you've been planning for a month. Or like, oh I don't know, say your-brother-rounds-the-corner-being-pulled-by-an-angry-looking-adult-whom-you-have-never-seen-before-in-your-life?

I don't know about you, but that sounds like one of those little things, hypothetically speaking. But if ever you're me, standing in unfamiliar territory with lots of innocent bystanders, and it really does happen to you, just remember: You're not dead yet, good luck staying that way. And don't forget to have a nice day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Ezzy is pronounced 'eh' (like in egg) and 'zee' (like in zebra), and she is 17 -19 years old. (In answer to two of the reviews.) Hope you enjoy, and review!

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I walked up to them, and tapped my foot at the man, a scowl on my face. I have to admit, I am a convincing actor when I need to be, because the man bought my act. "Um, ma'am, uh, this kid stole from me,' he had calmed down a little after seeing me, what he imagined to be a reasonable and responsible adult who would fix what my young charge had done wrong. He probably thought I was tapping my foot at Ade.

I relaxed marginally, since no self-respecting employee of the Institute would call one of their experiments anything close to ma'am. I hated to burst the guy's bubble, and send him packing without whatever justice he felt he was owed, but hey, life's not fair. I put on my angry face and directed it at him, "So? What gives you the right to drag _my son_ around? You could be a rapist or a pedophile! Do you realize that could be considered kidnapping?"

The guy was starting to sweat, clearly not expecting to be chewed out when he was the 'victim'. Ade caught on to what I was doing, and promptly started to cry, subtly looking innocent and scared.

The guy looked back and forth between Ade and me, starting to feel the odds turn against him. _That's right bubby, _I thought to myself, _you're not going to win this one._

A few people, like the little old lady feeding pigeons and the teenage couple previously smooching beside the roses, began to watch. The guy realized they were watching, and let Ade go. Ade ran over to me, and like the drama king he was, hid behind me and clutched my leg, putting on the best wounded puppy eyes he had.

"Oh, uh, Jeez, I didn't mean it like-"

I interrupted him, raising my voice gradually, and emphasizing certain words to the benefit of my listeners, "Like what! Like HAULING a _little kid_, who IS NOT YOURS around the park, AGAINST HIS WILL?"

The guy's eyes widened the louder I got, and his level of nervousness rose too. I felt a little bad for it, but it was a means of survival, so I had to follow through. Otherwise, he would call the cops on us, and the Institute would find us.

He tensely pleaded with me in a hushed voice to stop, his eyes on those watching us. I made to look for my cell phone, and then grimaced. "Do you have a phone?"

My question startled him, and he turned to face me, "Yeah, why?" I sighed impatiently, making my face a little angrier, and coolly replied, "I must have left mine at home, give me yours so I can call the cops and my lawyer."

His expression was priceless, and I had to suppress the urge to laugh. "Please, please, don't call the cops, I didn't mean anything like that! I just," he took a step towards me, trying to explain himself, and Ade let out a panicked sound. He squeezed my leg as hard as he could while trying to get away. It made for a pathetically sad little scene, and now the audience was against the guy, a couple of them even stated whispering.

The guy froze, well aware of how it must look, "Please, don't call the cops, I swear I wasn't trying to hurt the kid!" I let my face calm down, and threw in a little contemplation, as if I might be considering him. I then looked away from him, letting him sweat it out for awhile.

"Fine, I won't call the cops," the guy visibly relaxed, "but I want your information for my lawyer." He snapped back to tense, and he cupped his hands, flat out begging me, "What do I have to do?"

"Listen, you traumatized my kid, so _you _owe _me_," I glared at him sternly, making him squirm. He dug his wallet out of his pocket, retrieving a hundred dollar bill from it. "Here, take your kid somewhere nice and I'm sure he'll be back to normal. I swear I didn't do anything to him!"

I looked at the money for a second, and then turned my glare back onto him, intensifying it two times, "Are you _bribing_ me?"

The poor guy was about to wet himself, but thankfully, I was almost done with him. "N-n-no, n-no," he shook his head and stuttered. I let myself deflate, and turned my softened eyes away, "Listen, if you didn't, then you didn't. Keep your money, but don't ever touch my son again, he has it rough enough as it is."

I turned to leave, Ade separated from my leg, and his hand in mine. The guy grabbed my arm as he called out for me to wait.

"Take it anyway, it's the least I could do." His sympathy was genuine, and I felt the prick of guilt again. I accepted it with a hint of begrudging trust, and undertones of forgiveness and thankfulness. I gave him a tentative nod, and half-heartedly returned his smile.

Then Ade and I were off scot-free and an extra hundred dollars richer.

Once we were a safe distance away, we ducked down in a condemned building. We sat on the debris strewn concrete floor, and ate our lukewarm hot dogs. As we ate the last few, I turned to face Ade. "What did you steal from him?"

Ade shrugged, still munching away on his hot dog, "I – hack – mhaybwe," he paused to swallow, "took his," he bit off another chunk, "frwrenchw frw –hack – ies."

I raised my eyebrow incredulously, "You took his french fries?" He nodded, and we burst out laughing. But then I sobered up, "I didn't get the file yesterday."

"We'll try to get in one last time today. They won't suspect us to try it again so soon, and this time, we'll walk right in their front door like a regular New Yorker would," I paused a minute, letting him think it over.

"I was chased off before I could get it," I noticed he had questions, and hoped to avoid telling him about the erasers, "but I know where it is, so we'll have to use our powers in tandem to walk in and out of that place."

Before I go on, yes, we both have powers. And fortunately for us, they work well together. I won't spell it out for you just yet, so you'll have to figure it out on your own.

He asked a few questions about the details, and I did my best to make them up just like the rest of my plan. I realized the danger to both of us, but what other choice did we have? It was now or never if we wanted to find the other six.

I looked at my watch, or rather, some poor salesman's watch that I 'borrowed'. It was a little after eleven, so Ade and I went out to the nearest water fountain for water, and the nearest pavilion to eat whatever non-moldy scraps we could find. We struck out when we found two half-eaten sandwiches and a bag of chips some picnickers didn't bother to throw away. Ade and I ate quickly ate the generous find, and sifted through the rest of the wrappers.

Filled just enough to put off hunger, Ade and I went into the dense area of trees, ready to take off. The sun was out, and it light up the highlights in my hair and wings.

I loved it when that happened; it was like sparkly gold. Ade's wings were more silvery, but they light up, too. I inhaled the sweet scent of the firs around us, and then took off at a run. I pushed off first, and Ade was right behind me. The feeling of flying is…indescribable to say the least.

We flew straight towards the building, but veered off before we could be in the sight of any potential erasers. We landed on some roof overhanging a secluded and vacant alleyway. We repelled down the wall using the fire escape and our wings as quickly and carefully as we could. Once we safely on the ground, we pulled in our wings as tightly as we could. We ducked behind a dumpster before we could emerge in people's view to fix our 'disguises'.

When I say 'disguises', I mean I use my power to change the light wave refracted off our hair, eyes, and/or clothes. In this case, I was making his hair red, my eyes brown, and our clothes darker, lighter, and cleaner looking than they really were. I have to in physical contact with Ade to maintain his 'disguise', and trust me; it takes a lot to maintain these 'disguises'.

I mean think about it, I have to focus on all the surfaces I'm messing with, and align the wave lengths of each color I'm making. It's a lot to do! But at least I can hold it longer without it slipping.

So when we emerged, I was a blonde haired, brown-eyed mother wearing a navy blue trench coat and tan pants. 'My son' came out with red hair, green-blue eyes, a baby blue jacket, and medium blue jeans.

We walked briskly to the building, and quickly entered on the tails of some other visitors, keeping our heads down and turned from the security cameras. We made it in and on the elevator, going up as high as the public could go. From there, we took the stairs, the other pair of stairs that were supposed to be, a secret. But I knew about them from my surveillance yesterday.

From there, we entered the forty-second floor, after what felt like forever. We slunk carefully down the corridor, and paused every now and then to listen. There was a little unintelligible speech coming from somewhere in our hallway, but we weren't sure where.

Finally we made it to the one I was looking for. And I know because I mapped its location in my mind, and was carefully pacing out our progress in my mind. I tugged on the door, silently praying it wasn't locked and –

It wasn't. I guess they felt secure no one would be able to get this far. We walked right in, and I had Ade stand guard while I searched for the file or files, as the case may be.

Fortunately, these people were very organized, and I was on the right track for finding what I wanted. Unfortunately, the voices, three distinctive ones, had left their room, and were coming our way. They might not want to come in this room, but I nodded to Ade, and he began to use his power.

Now the average human doesn't have as good a hearing as we do, but still, if there was even a slight possibility they could hear me, I wanted Ade to make sure they didn't.

Ade messes with vibrations, and I mess with light wavelengths. So he created a zone around our room that stopped the vibrations, or sound, from making it out where the people would be passing.

But of course, they wanted in this room. So as one of them turns the doorknob, Ade and I disappeared into the room, ready to take the first way out. Meanwhile, I can't quite shake the familiarity of one of the voices….

And of course, in walks the nicely dressed guy I threatened this morning. What a day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I'M SO SORRY! I hate waiting on people to update, which is why I set the two week goal for myself, but of coarse, I jinxed it! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't hold the long wait against me. Thanks for reading, and please review! ;3

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I followed Peter down the stairs, listening to the details of the new case we were working on. Diana was behind me and Jones was on Peter's left. We probably looked like puppies following Peter, but he didn't give us much choice, if we wanted to hear what he was saying.

"Alright, Diana, I want you to get all there is on Dr. Karen Michaels. Jones, I want you to research all the dealings the Institute has been making with Itex in the last five years. I want to know where those millions disappeared to. Neal, you and I are going to visit their CEO, Carlos Kallen."

"On it," Diana called on her way to her computer.

"I'll have it before you get back boss," Jones said as he headed the other way to his desk.

Peter and I headed for the elevator. I rubbed my neck where the girl had hit it earlier this morning. "Tell me what happened again," Peter asked, turning to look me in the eye.

"Someone was on my balcony today, and they knocked me out after I had Mozzy call you. I thought they might have had something to do with gallery case, but according to Mozzy, they left without entering my room. All of the case work was just like I left it, and there weren't any bug_s_," I threw in for Peter's benefit, "That we found anyway."

"I know it was a she by the voice, and she was shorter than me," I added as an afterthought, "I would have guessed it was Alex if I hadn't known better."

Peter nodded his head as he thought it over for the second time. "And you never got a look at her?" I shook my head, and he returned to his thinking pose. The elevator dinged, and we were on our way to _The Institute of Higher Learning_.

The CEO's personal assistant brought us to a conference room, and left saying her boss would be with us shortly. But her definition of 'shortly' left us waiting for the CEO to arrive longer than my definition.

Peter huffed after about fifteen minutes of waiting, and I was up and re-investigating the lone bookcase in the otherwise standard room for the third time. Peter stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city, "If he isn't here in the next five minutes…"

Just then a young man in a casual grey suit walked in, looking back and forth between us before asking for Agent Burke. Peter walked up to him with his hand out, "Peter, please, and this is Neal Caffrey, a consultant," I shook his hand when my name was given, saying only a polite hello with a nod and smile. Peter continued, "Mr. Kallen I presume?"

He nodded to both of us as he shook our hands and added, "Call me Carlos." The two of them took opposite seats at the table and I retreated to the window, half sitting half leaning against the frame. Peter began with some light standard questions, all seemed well, and he answered smoothly and confidently. But then Peter asked him about a formally secret deal with Itex last year, and he showed surprise – which is expected from anyone – and worry – which is a sign of guilt. I could tell from the slight crease of his brows, and his fidgeting hands. Peter could tell too, I was sure, but my job was to look underneath – with my experience – and try to find out _what_ he was hiding.

Peter went on with some other public deals, giving nothing away that we were on to his concern. Then Peter returned to the first deal, asking about Dr. Karen Michael's role specifically. He gave away the same tells as earlier, but this time, he touched his watch, and then glanced to his left at the wall clock.

And just like that, I knew they were working on some project or deal with Itex. I also knew that she was currently directly involved as well.

Peter went on with a list of some others, and I gauged their level of participation in what was going on. Then based on the names I had, I ran through my internal list of "extra-law" persons these people were, or associated with. I had a sinking feeling when I realized the kind of illegal things some of these people were known for. If I was right, the Institute and Itex were experimenting with human experimentation and cloning.

I hoped I was wrong, and after a moment of thought, I dismissed it in favor of what all people's immanent goal: money. I could somewhat see the profit of coming out with cures to serious injuries, or a way to improve humanity's life, but there were _legit_ humane government funded programs. So why bother with going around that and risk so much for so relatively little?

I started to think they were planning a more elaborate attempt to discredit these government programs in order to eliminate competition. That made sense; that meant that they weren't hurting people in a way that every American criminal despised: losing rights and freedom. Besides, the other alternative would mean…It was just beyond anything I wanted to deal with.

Finally, Peter asked to see their records, and to take those files involved with the deal from last year. He was sweating by then and tight-lipped anyway, but when Peter asked for the records, he showed genuine fear. _Bingo_, I thought.

He stuttered slightly, and then paused to clear his throat, "Let me ask the higher-ups first; it's not my decision." Peter nodded, and he was on his cell a second later. He murmured a hello, and then stood up wandering away from us as he spoke in a hushed tone.

Peter and I exchanged glances, and we silently agreed on his, and possibly the entire company's guilt, in the embezzling scheme.

He turned back to us as he hung up, "I have permission to show you only those that are considered directly involved with the Itex deal." Peter nodded, smiling slightly with a look of knowing, as if Kallen had no secrets left hidden.

"The records room that contains those files is down the hall, so if you would follow me," Kallen opened the door and motioned us foreword. We followed him down the hall, chatting lightly, trying to pry a little more and keep him off balance. We reached the room quickly and Kallen opened the door. The room wasn't big, but it wasn't small either, rows of files lined three walls as well as most of the floor space, and seven large windows displayed New York on the wall across from us.

Instantly, Kallen's eyes dilated, and his brows rose in genuine surprise. He rushed over to one of the units in front of us, and stopped to exam an open drawer. Then his face grimed, and he whirled back to us, "Someone has been in here without permission, we can't go any further until we know what happened, or what was taken."

Peter raised his eyebrow in suspicion, as if to say '_You expect us to buy that? You're obviously trying to make time to hide something.'_ Kallen defended himself with a slight glare at Peter for his mistrust, "We have strict policies here Agent Burke, and meticulous expectations of our employees. No one working on this floor would ever leave these out of order, let alone leave them exposed." He then walked past us briskly to the left wall and pushed what looked like a fire alarm. "What are you –," Peter started, surprised and annoyed to be so quickly ignored. I waited for an alarm to go off, but nothing happened. I creased my eyebrows as I began to worry.

The next instant, before Kallen's hand even came off the alarm, something small flew from across the room and impacted his head. He was knocked to the floor, either out cold, or something I'd rather not think about.

Peter pulled out his gun, headed in the direction Kallen was, pointing his gun in the direction the object had come from. Peter checked for Kallen's pulse, and nodded to let me know Kallen was alive. I held my breath, looking around for anything that would give away where the person was in the room with us.

I saw a flash of color that didn't belong in the grey room, and although I knew better, I went after it without a word to Peter. I silently stepped around a corner and saw her two rows down. She was blonde, but I could only see the back of her blue trench coat and jeans. I rounded the unit, and caught a glimpse of her face as she disappeared around the corner. I don't know why, but I got the feeling I knew her somehow. I ran after her again as quietly as I could manage.

The next second, Peter and I almost collided, coming down perpendicular rows. I threw me hands up when I saw his gun emerge right by my face, and he lowered it the second he recognized me. He gave me a withering glance, annoyed by my distraction from his quarry.

The girl I had been following and a little boy Peter must have been tailing were standing side-by-side against the wall of windows when Peter and I returned to their trail. The girl looked slightly surprised for a split second, and then almost glared at us as she raised her hands towards us.

Then there was white. No shape, no form, just _white._ I don't know how else to say it, but I felt numb, I guess.

I just stood there without a clue of what was going on, before I cried out from the pain my eyes finally began to feel. And then I discovered that I couldn't even hear it. Someone suddenly grabbed me, and I struggled, but the next instant I felt like I was falling. I faintly heard the wind rushing past my ears, and glimpsed the faintest hint of blue through the white.

If nothing else, I could say today was easily the most confusing I've ever had. I just hoped I would live to figure it out tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Alrighty then, here's the next chapter. I hope you like it, enjoy! ;3

**P.S.** There's this song, Everything Falls by Fee, and it kind of of sets the mood for the last two-thirds of this chapter, if your interested. ;)

* * *

She walked past Joe the security guard, and slipped down the hallway, not unseen, just unnoticed. She didn't find it surprising, since she walked by every day. Everyone was used to seeing her there, and so they dismissed her from mind.

But today was different.

She reached her destination quickly, and let the door close behind her, like she was doing the same thing she did all those other times. She glanced around for anyone still in the room working, and then headed down the aisle to the computer at the back.

'I'm just going to make sure the rumors weren't true, and then I'll get out,' she told herself repeatedly, 'just in and then right back out.'

She waited patiently, listening to the soft humming as the slumbering computer awoke for her. She let her thoughts drift from what she was about to do, thinking about her daughter instead.

Her daughter's name was Macy, only seven, all freckles and smiles. She lived with her father and his new wife and step-children in Maine now. In Macy's last letter, she even said there was going to be a half-sibling in September sometime. She was glad for her daughter's excitement because she loved Macy fiercely, and missed her just as terribly.

The tears slipped down her cheeks as she faced the sad thought of going home to an empty apartment when she finished here. _Macy I miss you_, she thought sadly, _I love you so much._

Shaking her head, she forced herself to return to the present. The monitor went black for a moment, and showed her a glimpse of Kara Mathews, the not-so-promising lab assistant and failed family woman. She was pale, freckled like Macy, and very plain. The tears prickled her eyes again, triggered anew by the harsh critique of herself.

Then the screen turned blue and Kara's reflection was gone, replaced by a little white box asking for a password.

Kara then sat in the cushy swivel chair and typed in her boss's password. The box disappeared and was replaced by a catalogue of files. She clicked the mouse on the Search button and proceeded to type 'Experiment: JK721-Y778'.

The computer whirled to a high pitch as it brought up the results from her command search. A few moments later and she was staring at a link to two different case files. Swallowing at the lump in her throat, Kara shakily moved the mouse over the first file codenamed: Iccarus II. Her heart pounded in her chest and the sweat began to form on her face. _It's probably nothing_, she told herself, _nothing at all like_…

Her inner pep-talk was cut short as she began reading the overview. Her eyes widened the further she read, and her mouth hung open shortly thereafter. Her mouth had gone dry before she found the ability to close it, and by then, she had read half of the beginning of the file.

She hastily skimmed over the rest, logging key words in her mind as she went, '_Gene Therapy…Gene XSD34-XDF…artificial experiments…acquired experiments… live test subject 7: E11-27URF Status: Rogue ….live test subject 8: A11-27URN Status: Rogue_.'

She leaned back in her chair to think, or at least to try to. Her head was spinning with what she had just learned. '_Real human children have been kidnapped and experimented on! Right here, in America_!'

'_Those poor children'_, she kept thinking, '_if it happened to them, could it happen to Macy_?' She straightened slightly, a sudden jolt going through her, "I have to stop them," she whispered aloud, "I have to tell someone. I have to do something!"

Then the salty hot tears came, as she scrunched her eyes closed, trying to forget, trying to push away the thoughts that made her want to lose her lunch. She buried her face in her hands and cried for the children whose lives had been cut short so brutally, the families torn and murdered, and the children still out there that had to live with the horror of what had been done to them.

She shuddered again as a memory of her own mother resurfaced; of the warning she had given the day before her mother died.

-Short Flashback-

_Sitting there in her dingy old blue recliner, nursing on a cup of some strong drink, Kara's mother would glare at the world from her safe haven. "One day you'll learn girl. One day you'll see", she would say sometimes to her small child, "This world is just a disgusting cosmic accident full of evil people."_

_Her mother would watch the news all day, and sneer at them, pointing out how one thing or another proved the depravity of the world. Kara would listen with half an ear, having heard it all before. But Kara never believed her mother, thinking she was a hypocrite for drinking and declaring the world a 'cosmic accident' with one hand and thumping a Bible with the other._

_But then one day, her mother was sober; the day before she died._

_That day, when Kara came home from school, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her_ without_ her glass of alcohol. "Have a seat," she had said, "this'll take awhile." She handed Kara a glass of milk and a plate of chocolate cookies._

_Kara obeyed silently, wondering at the reason for the sudden change. Her mother studied her carefully as she nibbled on the first cookie, and dunked it in the milk. Finally her mother began, "I haven't been a very good mother, I know. I haven't taken you to church like I should have, or go to one of your dance recitals, or even taken you to the park since you became a toddler. For all that, I'm sorry. But for what I'm about to tell you, I'll never regret."_

_Kara stared at her mother with wide eyes, just a little nine year old, frightened and confused by what her mother was saying. Her mother leaned back suddenly from her leaning position, taking her intense gaze away from the frightened child. Staring off at the wall, her mother's voice got small and frightened as well, tinged with sadness and regret, almost as if it belonged to Kara._

"_I never fully believed all the religious crap my mother shoved down my throat, and I was so bitter for so long because of it, avoiding life. I've made a mess of myself because of my stubborn view, believing in the lies of the human condition, how we are on the track of progress or something like that. For a time, I whole-heartedly believed people were evil and there was no god. But I've learned something… I've seen God with my own eyes, and I know he's real."_

_She paused a moment, searching desperately for words, "I finally realized that without him, nothing was evil. I know it's confusing, but let me put it like this: If there was no God, and no absolute truth, which he said he was, then everyone's relative truth is right, and none of it is wrong. That sounds like a cool thing, but think about it: that means thieves are right to steel, and those crazy people you see on the news are right to kill people in the sick twisted ways they do."_

_Kara followed only about half of what her mother was saying, but she nodded vigorously anyway. "Good, I'm glad." Her mother looked away a moment, swallowed heavily, and pulled back her tears whispering, "I'll miss you kiddo." Kara was surprised, and blinked up at her mother confused. "Promise me you'll find God like I did, promise!" Kara shook her little head in agreement. "You'll get sucked up in the vile sins of this world if you don't."_

_Her mother opened her arms and Kara ran into them without a second's hesitation. "I love you so much Kara. I'm so sorry I've messed up. Please forgive me." Mother and daughter cried together that night, making ground they never shared before. _

_The next day Kara was pulled out of school by her father. On their way to a place she didn't know, he leaned towards her and gently whispered with sad eyes the story of her mother's final moments on earth. And so Kara rejected the idea of a good God who took her mother away when they were finally getting close from that day on._

-**Well, the **_**not-as-short-as I thought**_** Flashback End-**

Kara shook her head and wiped away her tears, "You were right mom. You were right. I did get sucked up in these people's sins; my sins." There was a God, because if there wasn't, then what these people were doing was right. The acceptance kindled a spark in her heart, and with a new purpose and clarity, Kara hastily copied both files to her key chain flash drive, and sent them to her e-mail just in case. In addition, she sent it to a couple of people she trusted, people who didn't work for the Institute. As an added precaution to protect those people, she added a layer of encryption. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as the last e-mail went through. 'Now then,' she thought, 'All I need to do is wipe any trace I was in these files and…'

"Kara, what are you doing in here?"

Kara spun on her chair to face none other than Dr. Karen Michaels. The woman who in charge of the experiments on those files; the woman she had helped unknowingly. She tried to sit still, to look like she was doing something she was supposed to, like she still didn't know what was going on. But she felt like the mouse between the cat's paws.

"What are you looking at? Is that…," Karen trailed off, already reading what was on the screen before Kara could turn and change it. A cold shiver of fear went down her spine when Kara caught Karen's gaze; because death was written there.

"You shouldn't mess around with things that don't concern you. I can't let you get away with this Kara," the woman smiled as if she was joking, but the laughter wasn't in her eyes. She had a calculating stare, like she was breaking down Kara with her look alone, and when she was done, the jury might as well have cried guilty.

But suddenly Kara's fear was replaced with warmth, because somehow, in the midst of her fear and panic, her heart cried out for help, and someone answered. Even though she was still in danger, and even though she wanted desperately to live, the presence flooded her being with comfort and reassurance. Then with a strength she knew couldn't be her own, Kara straightened up and looked Karen straight in the eye, "This is the beginning of the end of your sins Karen Michaels, you can still give up now, but the end is coming."

Kara closed her eyes in peace, knowing that whatever was next, it wasn't the end for her or anyone else, because something had just started. And while her work here was done, something was waiting for her on the other side.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** So hey, sorry for the wait, but here is the longest chapter yet. In the last chapter, I wanted to show a snipet of what was going on inside the institute, and show how and where the FBI will get enough proof to incriminate the Institute. This chapter is a partial review of the events right after the chapter from Neal's perspective, and leads up to...well you'll find out soon enough. Hope you enjoy it, and please review! :3

* * *

Have you ever had one of those days were you wish you just hadn't got out of the bed?

You know, the days where everything seems to go the opposite way of what you wanted it to? Like when you lose your final project, and get left soaking wet on the corner across from school as the late bell rings? Well today was that day for me. Except for the fact that I don't have a final project, nor am I standing at the corner soaking wet in front of my old school, listening to the late bell as it sentences detention, but…um…yeah.

Anyways, let's just say that my day was **not** going well. Shall we recap the past half hour or so?

First off, the last chance to get those files I wanted about the others was lost. If that had been all, it _might_ have been _so_ bad. But no, my life is never that simple. There had to be those three guys, a game of hide-and-seek, and some erasers. You just know the day isn't complete without your friendly neighborhood erasers getting involved! That was heavy sarcasm, in case you didn't already know, since I just love the stuff. Oh look, I just used it in the definition!

Okay, back on track, too much sarcasm and…Oh crap, there I go again. I need therapy. Seriously.

Anyway, I threw a rock, (yes, a rock that I had in pocket for some unknown reason, _even to me_), and knocked the institute guy out after he pulled the silent alarm on us.

When he waltzed in and first noticed the open drawer, I was crossing my fingers and hoping that he would just brush the open file drawer off as a careless employee's mistake. But no, Mr. Uptight couldn't handle his files being out of alphabetical order! Which I am still face-palming over because I can't believe I put the stupid file back down in the wrong place!

So then the one guy pulls out his gun, and checks the institute guy. Then they both start to try and find us, or me I guess, since I was the one who threw the rock in the first place. But Ade and I were already on our way to the window, our new goal to get out alive, and they weren't going to stop us!

After we had just made it to the window, the two guys converged behind us. I had naively believed we could elude them, but I guess these guys were a little better than I was ready to give them credit for. I hesitated for a just second, but brought up my hands and temporarily blinded them.

I basically overwhelmed their retinas, (you know, the light-sensitive tissue of the eye), by drastically changing the intensity of the light around their eyes. It was easier to do then changing colors; all I had to do was intensify the light in one area, or two areas in this case. I suppose I don't really need to use my hands to do it, considering my power relies on my thoughts and concentration, but I find it easier to channel the light onto others with my hands.

Ade saw what I was doing and used his own power to make sure they couldn't hear us as we escaped through the window.

I asked him once awhile ago what is was like to use his power to stop sound, and he said it was like singing. He says he basically creates a bubble of sound using his voice, (which must be at a pitch to high for me to hear because I never do), and that bubble somehow absorbs the vibrations around it. He said that he could direct the range and amount of vibrations cancelled out by using different tones and durations of notes he makes. I'm still trying to wrap my head around _how_ that works exactly, but I guess that will have to wait for a better place and time.

I was up and opening the window as soon as I finished blinding them, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

And it was originally my plan to leave those two guys behind, but as I should have known by then, my plans weren't really working today.

You know, considering how each of my _carefully_ laid out plans seemed to be going great as of late. (It's the sarcasm speaking again.)

Before we could step a foot out of the window, the erasers came pouring in from the door. In that second, I didn't really even think, I just grabbed them and ran, tossing the lighter one to Ade as we jumped out the window. I figured their chances were slightly higher with us in the skies than in that room full of psychopaths.

After we were airborne, I instantly regretted my decision, because there were winged erasers outside waiting for us. Now normally, we _might_ have gotten away like I did earlier, but since we were weighed down by our 'guests', that didn't seem as likely. So in this particular case of fight or flight, fight won out. There might have been just two of us, but there were only five of them, spread out to box us in. The rest must be out scouring the city for me, so this was our one chance to get out of there. I…

"Ezzy," Ade began, bringing me out of my lovely memory, "I think one of them is starting to wake up again." I sighed heavily and glanced over at our guest/prisoners.

I knocked them out before the fight began because they had started to regain their senses and struggle. We were hiding out in the park again, in a different but equally secluded part. I had tied their hands and feet with some zip tie I…um…_borrowed_ from a hardware store not too long ago. I also gagged them, and yes, I did so with their own socks. Gross, I know, but what else was I going to use? I don't want to put any of my clothes in their mouths! I mean, at least it wasn't some random hobo's socks! Ade and I set them against the wall until we could figure out what to do with them.

Before I went to check on the one Ade was talking about, I motioned him over, in order to check his bandage. We had made it out of there virtually unscathed; the worst of what we got was poor Ade's arm.

I had used my flash bomb, which is basically a much larger scale version of what I used on our guests, when the eraser closest to us got lucky and clawed Ade's arm, barely missing his passenger, Mr. Fancy Pants (and jacket, for that matter). I dove after the stupid eraser before he could go for Ade again, and am now sporting a major bruise on my hand. (Maybe I shouldn't have hit him _that_ hard.) Actually, I'm lucky I didn't break a bone in my hand. At least I'll know for next time just how hard their stupid heads are.

I cleaned and wrapped the three bloody marks when we arrived, before I even bothered with our captives. My brave little trooper didn't say one thing about it the entire time. He even volunteered to watch them while I found some food for us.

I had searched them to remove any weapons, or at least to look for any more of the one guy's guns, and guess what? The other guy is a fed.

My initial response to this intriguing new piece of information was, '_Holy hail, this guy's a freaking FBI agent!_' My next response was much calmer and more collected, '_We. Are. In. Deep_.'

And so here I am faced with a dilemma: What do I do with them? I supposed I could just leave them where they are now, surely someone would find them. '_Yeah sure, right after they die of thirst, or become Eraser chow_,' I thought unhelpfully.

Rubbing my temples, I wondered for the millionth time why I hadn't just left them back at the building. But I knew there was nothing to be done by wishing the past be different. Besides, they were no safer back there than they were here with us.

Walking over to them, I noticed what Ade must have noticed; the fed's breathing was different. '_He must be faking'_, I thought.

I sighed again, tired of the whole sneaking around thing, it was time to face this head-on. "I know your awake," the fed, Peter something I think, finally opened his eyes, carefully studying me. He looked kind of funny, sitting there gagged and bound, (with his own socks mind you), and this serious authoritative expression on his face. I let him stare me down, since nothing could be done until the other was awake. After they are taken care of, Ade and I will leave, just as fast as our wings will carry us.

So I sat across from the fed, to wait for the other one to wake up, and finished off my beef jerky. That I have compliments of some random kid's lunchbox, left alone and unprotected, while he (or she) played soccer in the field.

The fed seemed to have reached a conclusion about me, because he leaned back against the wall and initiated a staring contest with me.

Ade sat down cautiously beside me, tired of just standing, enjoying the last of his cupcake. The fed broke his gaze from me to assess Ade. I rolled my eyes at his surprise. '_Never seen a kid before? Hmm_', I thought to myself.

My patience was slipping when _finally_ Mr. Nice Suit, or Mr. Consultant Sidekick I should say, woke up. "Well, gentleman," I began, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Questions like, 'Why are we being held by a teenager and a child?' or 'Where are we, and what just happened?'"

I studied their expressions as I spoke, not totally surprised to see the flash of recognition to my voice in Mr. Consultant Sidekick's face.

"For starters, my name is Ezzy, and this is my brother, Ade. I'll tell you what you need to know, and then we'll let you go. Deal?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Looooong time no update. I'm really sorry to have let the suspence slowly kill you. :(

I'd like to give a shout out to all the people who have commented and/or encouraged me: raisingdanielle, Thory567, wildflower1014, Alexis Castle, Anonamus A, superali29, Liberty Girl In The Sky, AliWC, Weeping Angel Of Fear, and everyone else who has read my story! Thanks so much; it means a lot to me (as cliche as it sounds).

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy it, and as a special treat to help make up for my long absence, it's about six hundred and fifty words longer than my previous longest chapter...I really did my best to up my game. I can't promise speedy updates, but I can promise that I will finish the story and not abandon it.

* * *

When I first started to regain consciousness, my first thought was, _'This is the reason why I don't like sleeping on the couch_,_' _as my stiff muscles cried out in protest. _'I should get Elle some flowers and chocolate after work today; no more couch for me.' _As I tried to stretch, and I found I couldn't, I thought,_ 'Wait, we didn't fight last night.'_

Then I _really_ woke up to find my arms bound and my mouth stuffed with…socks?

I tried swallowing in a purely instinctive move, and discovered that, yes; I was gagged with a pair of socks. Socks that I could taste were previously worn. The owner of said socks had yet to be determined, but I found myself intentionally focusing on other things…like where I could be.

We had been in the business district, (which was just as noisy as anywhere else in the city), and the noise level around me now was significantly less than it had been where we were. There were still traffic sounds and the sounds of crowds of people going about their day, but it was a more distant sound. Where we outside of the city?

No, there was still too much noise for us to be outside of the city. Unless they moved us to another city while we were unconscious.

But I quickly doubted that idea judging from the amount of light on my eyelids; it wasn't even an hour's difference from when we were at the Institute for Higher Learning. There was no way they got us to another city as big as New York in less than an hour. _Unless it's been more than a day,_ I added to my collection of possibilities.

"I know you're awake," a young female voice accused me. My cover blown, I opened my eyes to see the teenage girl from the file room.

She was chewing on what looked like some kind of jerky as she sat down across from me, leaning on the wall behind her. While I had the chance, I quickly evaluated my surroundings and concluded that we were either in the outskirts of the city (based on the state of the building), or we were one of the (many) condemned buildings of Prospect Park. Well, one of the buildings that _should_ be condemned, according to building codes.

The park was close enough to get to from the business district in a couple of hours (faster if speeding), and the reduced level of noise would be explained as well. The Park was my best guess.

After my three second assessment, I turned my focus on the girl. She returned my scrutiny with a cool gaze for a few seconds, fearless and disinterested, before turning her attention back to her original task. As if she deemed it to be far more important than I, the FBI prisoner was.

I leaned back slowly as I made my brief conclusions about her, which were few and vague. Generally, captors reveal their faces if they intend to kill their captives, and while she clearly wasn't trying to hide her identity, I didn't get the vibe from her that said 'I'm going to kill you' or 'I'm a psychopath'. But then again, some were used to killing and could act cool and disinterested. I'd hate to think anyone that young would be used to killing…

If I weren't tied up across from her, I would have thought she was a regular teenager, albeit a dirty one.

Then a boy came into view, no older than seven or eight. He sat down beside the girl uncertainly, still eating the remains of a cupcake. He had to be the one I tried to follow in the file room with the girl. I couldn't get a good look at him while I was following him; he was extremely good at slipping through the files, barely visible and strangely silent. The only time I actually _saw_ him was right before I was blinded, and it was barely a glance. I had known he was kind of small, but I expected him to be closer to the girl's age. But here was a child, not a teenager like I expected. What was a child his age doing in this kind of a situation?

The girl then raised her head to look beside me, as a small rustling sound filled the relative silence. I looked over to see Neal opening his eyes. Whatever was going to happen, it looked like it was about to start, because the girl climbed to her feet, assuming a commanding pose.

"For starters, my name is Ezzy, and this is my brother, Ade. I'll tell you what you need to know, and then we'll let you go."

Even if I could have said something in response, which I couldn't because of the gag, I honestly didn't know what to say to that. So I nodded rather…dumbly, at her blunt statement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neal do the same.

The girl nodded her head, and began her…speech?

"We are being chased by people from the Institute and people from the Itex Corporation for…certain reasons. We broke into that file room in order to obtain some information that we need from them in order to…use it against them. If you find out the specifics of what they are doing, they will kill you. If you dig too much into what they are doing, they will kill you. If you find out to much about my brother and me, they will kill you. They will hunt you down no matter _who_ you are or what your _job _isand make you and the people you care about disappear to the outside world."

Then she paused, giving us a minute to digest what she had said. I knew Itex and the Institute had been embezzling and laundering money for each other in the past three years. And both were pending charges for several counts of illegal tax evasion. But none of that should have anything to do with this girl and her little brother.

Unless that one million dollars we couldn't track down was being used to do something with children. Like…nothing I ever wanted to deal with. But the fact remained that these children managed to get into that place, with all of the Institute's tight security (which was one of the reasons the Institute is under investigation), and they almost got away with it.

A few seconds later, she continued, "Your lives were in immediate danger at the Institute, so we brought you here. You are still in danger just being with us and listening to what I'm saying. When we let you go, you need to walk away and forget about us. Leaving them alone about whatever it was you were there for in the first place might help too. Even then, you will never really be safe. I'll untie you in a minute or so, and you are free to walk away, but if you attack or harass us, you forfeit your safety."

She then proceeded to remove our gags. I then winced slightly out of a combined feeling of relief and embarrassment when I saw it was one of the pairs of socks Elizabeth had given me.

Neal wasted no time in asking her a question as she removed his sock gag, "Are you the person who was on my veranda?" I raised my eyebrows as the plot thickened. This girl was the one who had so easily made it through Neal's apartment, hid in Neal's presence, and then got away without him seeing her.

She grimaced slightly, (and I almost didn't catch it), but she seemed not pleased about it, or at least not happy about being called out on it. "Yeah," she begrudgingly muttered, looking away unintentionally.

"Why did you stay here when you could have left us while we were unconscious," I asked when I saw Neal open his mouth. We needed to use our questions sparingly, and I didn't want him to waste any more until we got the information we needed most.

The girl, Ezzy I think she said, frowned slightly, perhaps thinking me ungrateful, and for a minute, I thought she wasn't going to answer. "You were in danger, and we had the opportunity to save you; that's why we acted in the first place. After we moved you here, we couldn't just leave you alone and unconscious, so we stuck around to watch over you and warn you." She spoke her words slowly, emphasizing the unspoken debt that we owed them.

I chose to press it, asking, "Then why did you tie us up?"

Her eyes narrowed threateningly at me, and she fought to keep from gritting her teeth as she answered, "Because if I didn't, you wouldn't listen to what I have to say, feeling safe and secure behind your little badge, lecturing _me_ instead."

My eyebrows rose as she revealed that she had at least seen my badge, and she knew what and who I was.

She looked away as her annoyance faded, trying to hide the faint sadness that crept into her eyes, "I'm going to let you go now, since you've been warned not to pursue the Institute farther. I hope they don't kill for being seen with us."

I raised my eyebrow at this, her concern seemingly out of place from her earlier attitude.

I doubted that it was as bad as she was trying to make it out to be, but in her defense, she did seem to earnestly believe what she was saying. "Alright, so these people are bad, we promise to ignore what happened the last two hours, and we promise stop our investigation: How exactly do you plan on releasing us?"

She gave me a sharp glare, obviously displeased with the doubtful tone I was using, but she chose to answer me anyway, "I'll release your zip ties, point you to the door, and let you on your merry way."

I raised my eyebrow skeptically, because her plan sounded…unplanned.

Neal could remain silent no longer, and jumped into the conversation, "Where will you go?"

I hoped Neal's charm would ease out a few more answers; we still knew far too little.

The girl turned to look at Neal, her face impassive, "You don't need to know."

Neal tried again, his voice soothing and gentle, "What about your parents? Aren't they worried about you?"

Straight-faced, the girl answered, "They're dead." She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward over us to emphasis her next words, "The Institute killed them, just like they _will_ kill you, if you pursue them."

Neal cleared his throat, a little thrown off by her calm declaration of being an orphan, and prepared to speak. But before he had the chance, Ezzy motioned to the boy, Ade…I think, and he pulled out a little pocket knife in front of Neal while Ezzy walked up to me…pulling a serious looking hunting knife out of her pocket. I unintentionally gulped.

They quickly began cutting away the zip tie, and I unconsciously let out the breath I had been holding. As Ezzy finished cutting away my restraint, she told us, "I can do nothing more for you, you're already in more danger just being with us. The door is directly across from the landing of the stairs, and the stairs are behind that door to your right."

I rubbed my slightly numbed wrists as soon as they were free, and opened my mouth to try and convince them to come with us. But Ezzy clapped her hand over my mouth with a warning finger to her lips.

She was looking intensely at the ceiling, listening for…something. After a second, I concluded she was crazy… *_Whoosh_*

_I_ heard something.

I creased my brow as I strained to listen with her. But the next instant, Ezzy _SLUNG_ me over her shoulder.

"Ah...HEH," I couldn't stop the surprised (but still embarrassing) yelp as a _little girl_ hefted me up like I weighed less than a potato sack!

"What…," I began, but was unable to finish as she took off running for the window.

"Stop," Neal started from his position on the boy's shoulder, who was following us closely. I stared disbelieving as the little boy _carried _Neal, a full grown man, like he was a book bag.

Ezzy barely slowed to scoop up two packs onto her other shoulder, and went_ through_ the window, hitting the roof below us in a run. "What are you doing," I tried to shout to her, while attempting to squirm out of her tight grip and save us both from the fall.

But she just clamped down on me with a vice grip, effectively keeping me from stopping us.

The next second, something furry and bulky sprung out at us, looking like something that belonged in one of those werewolf horror movies. It snarled at us, and to my even greater surprise, it yelled at us to stop.

Ezzy ran faster, spontaneously sprouting _WINGS_, as she jumped off the edge. She beat down with sharp, strong strokes, putting us airborne before I could really process what had just come out of her back.

Then with a snarl of her own that put the monster's to shame, Ezzy turned us around and dive-bombed at the beast, lashing out with her legs. The brute turned to slash at her with its mean-looking claws, but was too slow to stop her from landing a painful-looking kick to its head. The thing lost a few inches of ground and looked a bit dazed, but it didn't go down. Rather, it shook off its stupor and unleashed its own wings, struggling to take off of the roof.

When she first dove, I almost questioned her, but then I saw the thing was after Ade and Neal, who were trapped between the window and the beast. I was surprised at how fierce Ezzy was; taking on a monster that looked like it could snap her like a toothpick. She dodged and weaved as best she could, trying to buy enough time for Ade and Neal to join us in the sky.

But Ezzy was tiring quickly, burdened by me and the packs while maintaining flight without any updrafts.

I was obviously far from an expert on these things, but even I knew Ezzy had reached her limit, not four minutes into the escape. I contemplated jumping on the thing to let her and the others get away, (now that she wasn't clamping down on me anymore), but before I could act, she pulled out the hunting knife, making one final lunge at the werewolf-looking thing.

It swiped at her as she came for him, airborne now as well, but still below us. Ezzy made it look like she was going to kick him again (the knife concealed), but overshot on purpose and flashed out her knife before he could stop her.

She made a clean cut to his right wing, severing it enough so that he could no longer use it to pursue us. But at the same time, he managed to get his claws up to strike us before he fell to the ground howling in pain. I braced myself to feel the bite of his claws in my side as we suddenly tilted, but to my surprise, there was no pain. Then I realized what happened.

Ezzy rolled us at the last possible moment so the thing got her instead of me. I almost choked. Not only had she put her life on the line for Neal and Ade, but she had taken a blow for me too.

Ezzy made no sound other than a slight grunt that I almost missed before she took off, quickly catching up with the other two. Where we were going, I had no clue, but the one thing that I did know was that I was going to help these kids, even if it killed me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Happy New Year's everybody, I hope 2012 is the best year yet! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this up, I mean I've been working on it since I updated the last time, but I seriously dragged my feet. I hope you enjoy it, and as for any mistakes, I apologize, I didn't get to edit it as much as I would have liked, but I didn't want to wait until next year to update.

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My side was killing me, no pun intended, but more because it itched then hurt. I did press on it to try and stop any residual bleeding, but I swear, I just wanted to scratch the sucker! On the bright side, if I was lucky enough to pass out, I wouldn't have to feel it _or_ have to deal with our unwanted guests. Who were breathing down my neck by the way, as we sat crouched behind a stinky dumpster, waiting for the signal from Ade.

I had somehow convinced them to unglue themselves from my back with all of their pseudo-mothering, but I was really getting tired of the pity that practically radiated off of the Fed. Mr. Sidekick Consultant, Neal something I think, was burning a hole in my back, and Mr. Fed, Peter or whatever, was burning one in my side. Their breathing was tense as they waited impatiently and uncertainly.

I could just _feel_ a headache coming on. They were going to ask questions, soon, judging by the way they were about to explode from keeping their mouths closed.

This was bad, really bad. They were never supposed to know about the wings or powers (although they got a front row seat at the Institute when I blinded them, they don't know for sure that I had any direct ability to do so, let alone that I actually did it).

Finally, less than ten minutes after he began his mission, Ade gave us the signal.

He casually leaned against the wall of the building he had infiltrated and waited for us to join him. He cast a single worried glance at my bloody side, but knowingly looked away and waved us towards the back door he had just emerged from. "It's the fifth story corner room, E521. All clear the whole way, and the stairs are on your right as you go in."

Letting him lead the way, our guests and I began the seemingly endless journey up the stairs to the room Ade had procured through…secret means. The Fed looked a little uneasy; well, more uneasy than his sidekick did. Guess he didn't like staying in a room he knew wasn't acquired _legally_.

Which his sidekick certainly must not mind, considering he's a _criminal_! That was awesome to discover as we flew out of his little boundary! The stupid thing on his ankle started beeping at us mid-flight, and my solution was to rip it off to shut it up. I knew something was up with this guy when I found his anklet while retrieving his future gag. I figured this guy was either being tracked because of something _like_ being a criminal, or he had a fetish. Or, (I actually just now thought of this), he was an officer on probation for breaking a cardinal rule or something, and to make sure he didn't mess up again (even after being demoted to a consultant), they put that on him.

Guess I was wrong.

I would have gladly ditched these guys earlier, and if I had been thinking instead of panicking when the beeping started, I would have dropped them like hot potatoes outside of Sidekick's boundary. Then Ade and I could have just kept flying. But no, I just had to make it harder on myself.

Especially because my current plan presented a greater danger to my overall health: enduring the inevitable questioning. It was going to happen as soon as we entered the room, I just _knew_ it would. Man this whole situation _sucks_!

Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. Unless it's the last glass of milk on the planet and you will die without it…

Am I bi-polar?

"What?" Ade craned his neck to look back at me.

Did I really just say that out loud? Oh crap, I'm losing it. "Nothing Ade, just keep going."

We finally reached the fifth floor, tired, hungry, and just plain uncomfortable. Ade pointed to the room, about four doors away from us. I marched up to the door, still unlocked from Ade's tampering, and we all entered quietly.

I quickly entered and locked the bathroom door, peeling off my coat and top, to inspect the wound in the mirror. I selected the vile of rubbing alcohol from its place, and used the washcloth by the bathtub as my cleaning implement. Using water first, I wiped up the bloody mess to reveal three long cuts and a fourth shorter one, all better looking than I had hoped. I gave them all another good wipe with the wet cloth, and then grabbing a dry one, carefully poured some alcohol on it, grimacing at how low it was getting.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself, and thoroughly cleaned each claw mark, mentally calculating how long it would take to heal. I then covered it with the remainder of my gauze, grimacing at that as well, (another convenience store would soon be raided). I taped the gauze down as best I could, and finished the procedure off by wrapping the whole area in the scarf I had used for my leg.

I then dumped my coat and top in the tub, turned on the water, and pulled out a big T-shirt I had in the bottom of my bag. I hesitated in putting it on, staring at the wings folded tightly against my back. They looked so small, pressed flat like that. I then looked at my overall reflection. I never really considered myself beautiful, and if ever I could have been before, I certainly never could be beautiful now.

I shook off my moment of vanity and pulled down my old/new jeans as well, checking on my earlier wound while I had my medical supplies out. It looked good, all scabbed over and faintly pink. We healed rather quickly, but we usually didn't lose our scars; however long I lived, I would always have a reminder of these years on the run, fighting to live another day.

I pulled up my pants, shut off the water in the tub, made sure it was lukewarm, and then exited the bathroom. I couldn't hide in there anymore, time to get the questions over with. Ade was seated on the bed closest to the bathroom, facing the other two who were seated at the table in the crappy old faux leather chairs. It was quiet in the room, which made me nervous, but I could see that everyone was waiting for me to arrive. Oh great, no pressure then.

"So," I opened the floor, "My plan is simple: We stay here the night, and if the erasers don't find us before then, you all go back to wherever you belong in the morning."

They held it in just a moment longer, and then they both broke down. "How do you have wings? Was it you that did the blinding thing? How can you do that? What's an eraser? Have you always had the wings? Was that how you got on and off my veranda?"

The last one was from Neal, who despite _everything_ that had happened in the last two hours was still fixated on our first unofficial meeting. Wow, should I call that persistent or pathetic?

I rubbed my temples and grimaced. How much should I tell them if I tell them the truth at all? Should I touch at all on our past, or focus entirely on the reason we were in New York? Should I tell them more about the Institute, or just pretend we're out to get the Institute for the reasons they believed?

"Does it really matter how we got the wings, or how long we've had them? We have them now, that's all that counts. You weren't even supposed to know about them. The thing that attacked us is an eraser. The erasers are sent and controlled by the people after us. Let me make this clear to you: The people after us would have killed you for just talking to us. In fact, they _have_ killed a lot of people for less than that! And yes, once and for all, I got onto that veranda from the air. I just wanted to hide somewhere for the night. If it wasn't for that stupid flower pot, you never would have known I was there. Happy?"

Peter looked between me and Neal a couple times, the wheels in his head turning quickly. I felt a jolt of panic when I realized my mistake. Neal had told the guy on the phone that _he_ had knocked over the flower pot. And I'm willing to bet my freedom that Peter was the other guy on the phone.

"So how did you knock the pot over? I saw with my own eyes how easily you can maneuver, a flower pot should have been easy for you to avoid, if not catch before it fell," the Fed had that glimmer in his eyes again, that obsessed kid with a 1000 piece puzzle and they just fit a chain together.

I swallowed and looked away before I could stop myself, but recovered quickly and answered him, "Neal was coming closer my way and I was backing away when I bumped it. I didn't have enough time to turn around, locate and identify what it was, and then snag it before it hit the ground."

If the Fed had blinked, (which apparently he has a no blink mode for interrogation), or just had the decency to look away, he never would have seen my slip-up. But he did, and I was busted. He just stared at me with those eyes. I know now why he's a Fed; he can mess with you through a stare.

"Okay, okay already. The plate of food made me lose my concentration. I was leaning over to look at it better when I brushed against the pot, and I didn't notice it until it crashed." I fought away an embarrassed blush, focusing on keeping a firm grip on my reactions: no more slip-ups!

They both put on another pity face, (like I needed another one of those), and this time, Neal spoke up in his soft gentle persuasion voice, "What happened with your parents? Isn't there anywhere safe for you to go?"

I had to suppress the sudden anger I felt at his bold questions. I already told them what they needed to know about our present situation. Couldn't they just leave it at that? I was trying to save their lives, but I couldn't get even a little trust!

"They are dead, and there is no where that's safe for us to go. Don't bother trying to '_help_' us. Trust me, you've done enough. We came here for information, and we just want to leave before we get killed. It wouldn't surprise me to see your faces in the news as a couple of victims of a '_random accident_', and all because you _saw_ us. Maybe because you're some fancy FBI agent you think you're safe from just about everybody. But trust me, this goes way beyond the Institue. You are way outmanned, out armed, and outmatched. There is no way for you to win. I-"

I stopped myself, clamping down on my emotions before I let my true feelings slip. I started out talking to Neal, but wound up almost yelling at Peter. And I gave him _way_ more than I intended. He now knew that there was a higher connection that the Institute, and worse, that I knew a lot about it.

I hate to admit it, but he was getting to me. The way he studied, and looked through me, I knew I wasn't going to make it through this without spilling tidbits like I just did. It was time to quit this, before I said the wrong thing.

"We should get a little sleep before you two leave. I'll take the first shift. Ade and I will take this first bed, and you two can decide where and how you'd like to sleep. We don't sleep lightly, so no funny business. Come too close, and we'll wake up."

Peter stood up for emphasis, a serious look in his eyes, "Now hold on, we were in the middle of a conversation. Could we finish before we think about sleeping?"

I shook my head sternly, "You know more than I intended to tell you, leave it at that."

He narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, my patience expired. With fists clenched and teeth grit, I ended the discussion, "You don't know anything; you sit up there in the clouds and chase the big clean crimes in fancy suites, intentionally oblivious to the everyday suffering of the scummy people you don't want to acknowledge exist. If they don't want wear suits, you don't look. Heck, even if they do wear suits, you don't care if they do something to someone who doesn't wear a suite."

He wanted to defend himself, 'set me straight', but I sent him a look that would have made an eraser melt. I practically threw Ade under the sheets with a 'go to sleep' glare, and stormed into the bathroom. I glared my soaked clothes into submission and scrubbed the blood out until my hands were raw. I then squeezed and re-squeezed them until my arms felt numb. I hung them on the curtain rod and drained the water. I turned for the door but stopped myself; I wasn't ready to face them yet.

I grabbed a towel and transferred my clothes to the towel rack, past ready for a long overdue shower. The Fed and his sidekick could wait. The erasers and the Institute could wait. Finding the rest of my family could wait. Even Ade could wait. I, not the freak runaway, but the blonde girl who used have a home and a family, was taking a luxurious shower…and crying her eyes out for the first time in a long time. That couldn't wait any longer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** Hey guys! I just wanted to explain a few things quickly before you start reading: Firstly, Ezzy and Neal are not nor will be a romantic couple...I would hate to make Neal a pedo. Secondly, we've almost reached the mid-way point, so things are going to start moving fairly quickly in the next few chapters. My plan is to write two or three chapters at a time to help keep the story straight amoungst all the chaos, and you get two chapters within a shorter amount of time. But then again, I've noticed that my plans don't always like me so...sorry, but no promises.

Anywho, here is the next installment (wow that sounds official), I hope you enjoy!

P.S. Please, please review! I know I don't always review every chapter of a story I read, but this chapter is kind of a milestone chapter for me, so I would really appreciate your input on how I'm doing. (What do you like or what do you not like.) Thanks!

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I wiped away the steam from the mirror and studied my tired eyes. I wasn't really doing a good job of first watch, considering that I limited all my senses with the shower and my ability to react safely. (Flying out into the cold night dripping wet and naked is by no means a smart or safe thing to do.)

I slapped my cheeks lightly, rubbed my temples vigorously, and then decided that I would like a peppermint mocha right about now. Which I find kind of odd since I had only ever tried one before, and hadn't thought about one in years.

I made myself feel a little better, laughing at myself, but a sudden wave of loneliness caught me by surprise. I wasn't alone! I had Ade, and as soon as I got my hands on the file we needed, I would have the others as well. Shaking my head one final time, trying to get my game face on, I turned my attention to more important things – like clothes.

The clothes I washed and set out to dry were still a _lot_ more wet than dry, so I cheated and used the blow dryer on them. They wound up getting over three quarters of the way dry, before my patience with the whole process expired. I dressed quickly and cleaned up my mess, eager all of a sudden to return to the room and watch over my charges.

Stepping out into the rest of room, I saw Ade was out cold, the practice of sleeping on the hard ground made it impossible for him to resist a real bad. I looked for the other two, finding one lying in the other bed, his breathing even, and the other leaning against the wall in the corner, watching me intently from his shadowy cloak.

Uncomfortable with his staring, I challenged him, "Can I help you with something, or are you just practicing for the Creepy Guy of the Year Award?"

He chuckled faintly, more to appreciate my attempt at snarky humor than to acknowledge any success. I waited a second longer, about ninety percent sure I knew which one he was. Then, somehow intuiting what he really wanted, I walked up to the window, pulled back the curtains, and pulled the window out, revealing a safety bar that was rusted enough that I could force it down and out of my way. I could feel his curious stare, so I answered him, "I figured talking somewhere else would be better for them," whispering softly while nodding towards the sleepers.

Neal stepped over with his own nod to signify he understood, then hesitating as he waited for me to reveal my exact plans. "Climb on," I motioned, and added as an afterthought, "I'm going to stretch my wings a bit when we first go. When we exit the window, we will fall a ways, but don't panic, 'kay?"

He nodded with the slightest hint of doubt, but did what I asked without questions – a nice change of pace if you ask me. He was awkward putting his arms around my neck, unsure of what he was doing. Not that I blamed him. It wasn't every day that a random mutant girl you offers to take you flying on her back and you can actually believe her (as opposed to calling the nice men with the white self-hugging sweaters and comfy padded rooms…).

I told him he could support his own weight until just before we dropped, which I hoped would help him feel better. He climbed up onto the window ledge with me, and loosely hung his arms around my neck. Just as I made to jump off, I reached back and secured him like I used to support the little neighbor kids I gave piggyback rides to when I babysat them.

Neal probably didn't need my help hanging on though, considering how tightly he was squeezing my neck. For a second, I thought he might have actually succeeded in straggling me, but as I fought my way up from gravity, his hold relaxed. I breathed a sigh of relief as the oxygen made its way back into my starved lungs. Neal murmured an embarrassed apology, but I ignored it in favor of reveling in the sheer gloriousness of flying. I surged higher as I caught an updraft of hot air rising from the still sun-baked asphalt, and when we reached the bottom of the clouds, I paused long enough for Neal to stick his hand into it. Then I put us in a spin, rolling down and to our left before taking us straight up into the clouds, breathing in the cold misty substance. I wheeled inside of the cloud; using my other senses to be sure we didn't drift of course, before nose-diving out.

I felt so…human, for lack of a better (and more appropriate) word; I was me and I was alive. I could practically feel Neal's smile as he too felt the indescribable feeling of flight (even if he wasn't the one doing all the work).

My little joy ride lasted a total of two and a half minutes before I angled us towards the roof of the hotel/motel or whatever the word for it was. Even though the clouds obscured the moon and stars, making us _very_ hard to see, the risk of being spotted still weighed on my mind. Neal was off the minute his feet hit the roof, leaning all nonchalant on the cement barrier guarding the ledge. I had to give the man credit; he was remarkably calm and collected both times that he had been flown (the fully conscious and aware times) by a bird-kid.

I took a seat, letting my wings out to cool off, (not that they had gotten very warm in the minutes they were used), and mostly just stretched them. I wasn't worried about them being seen, as we were tucked under an overhang. We waited each other out, wanting the other to make the first move.

Neal broke first, "So, why don't you want us to help you?"

I looked away, the sudden sense of loneliness washing over me again. I shrugged my shoulders, since words would have betrayed my feelings. Neal glanced around while he chose his next words, "I get it, at least, I get part of it, why you don't feel like we – well, Peter mostly – can't help you. But the thing is Peter's no lightweight. He's really good at what he does, and I know he can find a way to at least start a major takedown of The Institute. He has connections, and anyone that tried something would be caught before anything bad happened."

He hesitated, trying to judge my reaction to what he's said. I don't give him anything, my face aloof. But inside, I really wanted to believe him. I wanted to think that they could help me – well, us. I knew part of what he said was true, that the Institute did some underhanded things like tax evasion, and I knew the FBI was capable of opening that can of worms. But what I knew, that he didn't seem to grasp, was that the Institute would not be satisfied with killing them if they interfered. It would find anyone and everyone that they loved and _hopefully_ those people would receive a swift end.

The worst part is that actually, genuinely I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell _someone_ about me. The real me, the girl who was kidnapped, experimented on, turned into a freak, and hunted down because she escaped. I wanted to tell him my favorite color and book. I wanted to tell him about my childhood pet. I wanted to tell him what they were really doing, what they were planning to do. I wanted to _trust_ him.

But this goes so far over his head, and I know that more than likely, he will die because of me anyway. So I just can't. As selfish as I am to have even brought him out here to talk, I know I can't talk about any of that. If they do track him down, the very best thing I can do is to be sure that he doesn't know anything, then they will only kill him, quickly I hope.

So instead of a heart to heart where I spill my guts, I just calmly try to put his bothersome questions to rest. "I would love your help, but unfortunately, Peter isn't connected high enough. Take my word for it. The best you can do at this point to protect _yourselves_ is to lay low and hope they either deem you not worth it, or they kill you quickly."

His eyebrows creased with what looked like a mix of concern and indignation, but before he got any words out, I continued, "I am on the run for my life the way I am because of them. Please, for your own sake, if not for the sakes of your loved ones, just let this whole incident go. Please."

My cheeks dusted red as my voice broke. Now I've really gone and done it. I can see the pity spinning in his eyes as he sits up and takes a step towards me. I climb to my feet, feeling too vulnerable sitting on the ground. I was preparing myself to verbally beat back his pity when his hand caught my chin and raised my reluctant eyes to meet his. "If you are so bent on keeping us away and not knowing anything, why did you bring me here in the first place?"

Tears pricked my eyes as I fought to control my emotions, but I was unable. Fear, loneliness, weariness, and the desperate, desperate need for someone to take the burden from me flickered to life before I could hide them. He whispered now, so gently that I felt like I was five again, being comforted after a nightmare by my father, "You don't have to do whatever it is you're doing alone. We will help you; we will do everything in our power to help you."

I could hold in the tears no longer, and like a freaking baby, I started blubbering uncontrollably, shaking, lips quivering, and everything. Without thinking, I buried my head into his shoulder, arms flying around to encircle him, squeezing twice as hard as he had to my neck when we first left the room.

He didn't complain, just wrapped his arms around me and let me cry, occasionally stroking my hair or patting my back, words failing him for the moment.

Finally my tears slowed and I pulled back, cheeks pink from embarrassment, "Sorry," I murmured, wiping my eyes dry.

"Don't be," he said, a little awkward himself. I felt a genuine smile creep onto my lips, "You know, with a little practice, you'd make a great big brother." He looked at me with a wisp of surprise before he matched my smile with one of his own, "You already have the annoying and bossy little sister act down."

I laughed for the first time in what felt like ages, and his smile grew. To my surprise and delight, he slung his arm around me and gave me a proposition, "Let's forget the Institute sis, and talk about some good old-fashioned conning. I bet between the two of us, we would come up with a couple good ones."

"You bet, bro, but I think I have an advantage," I teased, eyes twinkling, as we sat down beside each other and spent God-knows how long laughing and joking and scheming.

Sometime after midnight, judging by the red numbers on the tiny corner bank's sign indicated, I took us back into the room where Peter's obnoxious snoring greeted us. We glanced over at each other and almost cracked up laughing. I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from being too loud when Neal motioned towards the ice box and the bathroom. Suddenly grinning for a different reason, my partner in crime and I slunk over to gather the equipment for our prank, our eyes alight with matching good-humored mischief.

I think Neal is officially my favorite big brother in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, thanks so much for staying with my story; it really means a lot to me that you like my humble work. This chapter really is super long, and while I tried to slim it down, I couldn't do it without losing important pieces of the story. I hope you like the extra content, but don't get comfortable with it. ;)

Oh yeah, please review and let me know the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Sorry for spelling/grammer errors.) Questions and comments are welcome too. Enjoy!

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Today was not a good day to be on my bad side. I snatched the Styrofoam cup of straight black coffee from Jones, and muttered 'thank-you', the best courtesy I could muster for him right now. It wasn't Jones's fault I was in such a bad mood, and the poor kid had been working none-stop since Neal and I had failed to check back in.

I woke up this morning to the sounds of the FBI team sent to find us, smashing down the door and everything. I also discovered that someone had shaving-creamed my hand, and thereby my face via the age old feather prank. Soon after sitting up, I also found my suit pants and the mattress underneath were soaked. I was not impressed, to say the very least.

But I could have gotten over it if not for one thing.

Ezzy and Ade were gone.

Apparently they left our room sometime after three, and anonymously phoned in the tip of our location from a payphone three blocks away. I confirmed it just now, listening to the recording of the message myself in a fresh suit at the office.

My wife ran over just after I swallowed my first sip of the scalding brew, and I chocked it down quickly to go greet her. I put on my best smile and embraced her tightly, doing my best to comfort her and assure her that I was alright. I wiped the tears from her eyes and just held her, pressing my nose into her hair and closing my eyes, maybe assuring myself a little too.

After she pulled away, I told her to go see Neal while I took the folder from Diana, who had stepped back and allowed us a little time together. Ezzy and Ade weighed heavily on my conscious; I felt like they was my responsibility and I had failed them by letting them slip away. I think Neal felt that way too, especially with Ezzy since they apparently bonded over playing pranks me. I hoped Elle might be able to comfort him a little like she had just helped me.

My eyes scanned the file my team had been compiling on Itex and the Institute over the course of our investigation. If I couldn't stop them from leaving, the least I could do was take care of the Institute for them.

I was so focused on reading at first that I brushed off someone who was trying to speak with me. But since the person persisted, I pried my eyes off the words and gave the person a 'hurry up or leave' glare. To my surprise, it was no one on my team, or anyone on my floor for that matter.

"Who are you," I asked, slightly annoyed and slightly serious. She lost her nerve and fidgeted, looking down and mumbling. Creasing my eyebrows in agitation I crossed my arms. She straightened and offered me a slim file, clearing her throat to speak, "Um, I'm Piper James, a clerk downstairs in the human resources department and I – ah," she paused and fidgeted, before noticing my slight glare and hurriedly proceeded, "I got this e-mail from one of my old college roommates, and I think it applies to your Institute case. I only got to decipher the first part of it, but its serious stuff and I thought you guys should get it right away, and – yeah."

I accepted the file with a slight excitement, thanking and dismissing her with a nod. "Here's the flash drive with the rest of it; I just printed off the stuff I deciphered," as soon as the flash drive was in my hand she was gone, back down to her station.

I was across the room with equal speed, sending the flash drive to the tech guys, ones that I knew and trusted of course, before shutting myself in my office to pour over the folder.

The words she had ciphered glared up at me as I read them. It was an introduction to an experiment summary:

"_The mutated gene was discovered on accident and is very rare. It is estimated that only 0.0000000000000001% of the population carries this particular gene worldwide. Only one branch of three families in the United States was found to have this gene within the last twenty-seven years of research. Of the families carrying this gene, it is estimated that only 0.01% of them express this gene without interference. Twenty subjects were extracted from these families for research, and of those twenty, only eight were found to be suitable for the augmentation program._

_Those eight were then further divided into groups of two for the individual augmentation program specialties: these specialties are dubbed 'Land', 'Sea', 'Air', and 'Espionage'. The children were selected based both on skill and personality potential before augmentation. They were also tested regularly throughout development. This report includes all of the test subjects' treatments, tests, results, goals, and notes for the Air Augmentation K-Gene Program. Our subjects were the oldest and the youngest of the eight, and will be referred henceforth as experiments E11-27URF and A11-27URN __respectively."_

I set the file down heavily, a disgusted feeling in my gut making me wish I hadn't had that coffee just to heave it up now.

A soft knock interrupted my stomach's queasiness and I forced myself to be composed, "Come in."

Neal poked his head in, his eyes immediately finding the file on my desk. He didn't have to ask me; the look on his face was easily read. "No," I sighed heavily, not wishing Neal to know just yet.

He eyes begged me, and I felt the undercurrent of his need to help Ezzy. I shook my head one more time, but more in defeat, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Neal's hands were on the file before I could offer it, and he scanned with a frantic intensity. His face paled at first, and then turned a bit green around the edges. "I see," he managed to get out, the wheels in his head turning just as fast as mine had.

These people were experimenting on children they abducted, making them into some kind of a proto-type for…something like a super-solider I would imagine. Something you read right out of science fiction.

Neal set it back down and walked out of my office to pace, and I thought of going to talk to him about it. I decided against it since I wasn't settled just yet myself. I drummed my fingers on the file and mentally urged the tech guys to hurry up. Time was of the essence. We needed everything we could get on them, go through the right channels, and take them down hard…today. Something like this could not wait. The Institute would have relocated out of our jurisdiction if we made one wrong move or were too slow.

I was about to get up to pace myself when my phone rang. I sat down and frowned, hoping it was the tech guys, but at the same time knowing they wouldn't have called me. "Hello, Agent Burke here."

"Hello Mr. Burke, it's a pleasure to finally speak to you. My name is Dr. Karen Michaels."

I froze as soon as heard her name. A thousand things went through my head. How did she know? Did my tech guys betray me, or was there another leak in the office? Or did they simply hear from the wolf-thing that we were with Ezzy and Ade, and then notice our reappearance at the office?

The next second, I pulled out my tracer device from my bottom drawer and plugged it in, waving frantically for one of my team to come in and help. "Dr. Michaels, how can I help you?"

"Now now Mr. Burke, we both know that you are looking into The Institute because of me, and you are involved with two of our experiments. Let's not beat around the bush, shall we?"

"Alright," I answered slowly, motioning Diana and Neal to be quiet and man the tracer equipment, "Why are you calling me?"

"I'm calling because you don't have the full picture, and I want to enlighten you before you make a huge mistake that you'll only regret later. The "children" you think you are helping are not children."

When she paused, I egged her with a snort, raising my eyebrows for dramatic effect, even if she couldn't see it, "Your experiments are children no matter what you do to them."

Only sounding slightly annoyed, she addressed my comment, "You're right to an extent; their age hasn't changed, but they have. They are not innocent like children and they do not think like children. They are hardly even human anymore. They are living weapons now."

Her voice became excited, "They have been trained not to feel emotions and how to manipulate others. They are the proto-types of human evolution itself! They are the future of our race, but they have been so drastically altered, that they have become a danger to themselves and to others."

I scrunched my eyebrows as she continued, but finally, I probed by asking, "How are they weapons? They're just kids, even if you experimented on them."

She sighed impatiently, and I fought a smile, the longer she took explaining things to me, the better evidence I had to link her to The Institute. And if they were holding her (or the better way to put it: aiding and abiding) then we get to go in and get her. While we are there, anything we find is fair game. And I was going to find everything I needed, one way or another.

"We are on the same side in this case Burke. Those "kids" are a threat to the public. As I'm sure you're doing even now, the file you have will detail the things done to them to make them weapons. Just take the girl for instance. She is built to fly, but her body is also incredibly durable and adapts quickly to a variety of things such as temperature, pressure, and altitude. She heals five times as fast as regular humans, and she is twice as strong as a normal human. This alone should be enough to make you worry. Think about it Burke, this girl could survive anywhere, for any length of time. She can out fight any human, and recover from injury faster than any human. And that's only scratching her surface. Her rare DNA grants her a unique ability that we are still studying. As of now, she can manipulate the light energy around her in various ways. But on a cellular level, she could potenially convert other forms of energy into light energy and convert light energy back into those other forms of energy."

I had to take a seat as I took this in, which, believe me, it was a lot to take in. Diana and Neal were also shocked, their mouths hanging open as I looked over at them since the first time they arrived in my office. I forced my own mouth closed and focused back on Dr. Michael's voice.

Her voice was practically elated as she continued without pause, "Just imagine all the things she could do! If she ever learned to control her power, she could literally live off of light, and kill with it. It really is a phenomenal power to have, but she obviously doesn't know how to handle it. We can help her, and we will, before she hurts herself or others on accident because she can't control it. Help us help her; we aren't the bad guys here."

I had to choke back a sarcastic remark, "You are the ones that started this, correct?"

I could see her smiling as she answered, "Yes."

"So how can I trust you to really help her when you are responsible for the state she's in?"

Without missing a beat she replied, "For the good of the many, we sometimes have to sacrifice the few. Such is the reason we have soldiers that give their lives to protect the many from the harm of war. It's the reason we would chose to save the lives of children on a school bus before we helped a pair of adults in a car, or why we kill a psychopath to save a multitude of future victims. Whether you like it or not, this is one of those cases. You have to choose here; the life, freedom, and happiness of those two weapons, or the safety of millions. Think about it Burke."

And think I did. I thought of Ezzy and Ade. I thought of how they risked their lives and freedom to save us, when they didn't even know us. I thought of how Ezzy went back for Neal and Ade, fighting a creature much stronger than her to protect others. I also thought of how she rolled me out of danger and took the brunt of the wolf-thing's claws.

I thought over the conversation Ade and I had while Ezzy and Neal went out of the room.

_I had dozed off, while waiting, an unspoken plan between Neal and I: divide and conquer. The sound of metal grating was enough to wake me up, and I rolled over in time to see them leave. I rolled back over and looked across the room to see if the boy was awake or not._

"_Ade," I called softly, watching him for any sign of consciousness. When he didn't stir, I tried again, "Ade, are you awake?"_

"_So what if I am," came the sleepy response. I stood up and went over to the window, looking out, vaguely wondering how Neal was able to speak with children so easily; it was a skill I seemed to be lacking in. Maybe I should have been the one to talk with Ezzy…_

"_Um, I don't really know where to start," I began honestly, hoping the boy might appreciate it._

"_Start what," he asked, sitting up and looking over at me._

_I took my own seat in one of the chairs and contemplated. "I want to hear your side of the story. So far Ezzy has done all the talking," I finally said._

_He fidgeted a moment, but decided he wanted to say something for himself, "I'm not as brave as she is. I admire her; I guess I always admired her, even before all of this."_

_I waited after he trailed off; anxiously hoping he would continue without me having to encourage him. "My side of the story isn't any different from hers I guess. I wanted, I mean back then, I wanted to be special. I wanted to be a lot like I am now because I thought it would be cool and exciting. It's not – cool I mean. I want things to be the way they were; I want to be normal again…"_

_I held my breath when he trailed off again, and panicked when I heard him hold back a sob. He was trying to be strong; he was trying to do what he thought Ezzy would do._

_After a second, while he gravely contemplated the wisdom of confiding me, the little boy looked back at me, "Promise me that if I tell you something, you won't tell Ezzy."_

_I nodded my head dumbly and wondered if I should do something to comfort him. "I wish I didn't have these wings, or have to run every day! I don't want to eat out of dumpsters or sleep on the ground or in trees all the time! I want to go to school and have friends and have my real mom again! I want," he had to stop, the tears cascading done his face, despite his best efforts to restrain them. He probably had been burying those feelings deep down to keep them from Ezzy, or else feel he was betraying her by complaining._

_I found myself going to him, holding his tiny body against my chest and stroking his fine blond hair. He clenched his fists in my jacket and sobbed, probably the first time in a long time. I couldn't tell him it would be alright, because I knew his life would never again be normal, but I said the one thing I could think of, "I'll do whatever I can to help you – both of you. I promise. I promise."_

_I held him until he cried himself to sleep. I felt as if some buried paternal instinct had just kicked in as I tucked the covers around him, longing to make his world right, to protect him._

_As I turned back to my own bed, I glanced over at the cloak that read midnight, and had a sudden idea. I would have to talk to Elle about it, but maybe just maybe…_

_Our house was big enough, and Satchmo would love siblings…._

No. Those kids weren't weapons or threats no matter what was done to them. I was going to keep my promises to them. I was going to do everything I could for them.

"Dr. Michaels, I'm going to need some time to think things over."

"Over course, take as much time as you need. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

I looked over at Diana. She nodded and I hung up. "She was using a burn phone through several different channels, but I was able to trace it; she's at the Institute."

I nodded my thanks and stood up, gripping the file tightly and leading both out of my office. I motioned Jones and the others to join us, heading or the conference room. Closing the door behind Jones, I slapped the file down and got to the point. "We are taking down the Institute today. Get to work, time is of the essence."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** I meant to post this sooner, but oh well, I hope you enjoy it! The last couple of weeks have been crazy busy, and the weekend looks like it could be worse...but I hope I can update again by the middle of next week at the latest. The next chapter is actually written; it just needs editing and whatnot. Oh yeah, review! :3

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I stifled a yawn as my lack of anything to do took its toll. Everyone on our floor was busy with some aspect of the take-down and had been working almost four hours straight. I, of course, had nothing to do except remember and worry.

I can't help but wonder if I had missed some sign that she was planning to leave. If I had known, I would have stopped her. I _should_ have stopped her. There had to have been something I could have done or could have said. It was about two o'clock in the hotel when I finally couldn't keep my eyes closed, and I thought she was asleep beside Ade.

Apparently not since an hour later, they phoned in that we were at the hotel. I felt, I don't know, almost betrayed I guess. She was like a long-lost sister to me. It hurt to know she was gone, and in danger no less. I couldn't help but think she was out there, tired and being hunted by those – erasers I think she said they were. I cringed again, the memory of our first meeting with the hairy werewolf wanna-be.

I wondered how her wound was doing. Was it hurting her even now?

There had to be something I could do, right?

I got up and headed to Peter's office, knocking before entering, catching him just as he finished another phone call with one of his superiors.

"What," he snapped, impatient.

"Can I down across the street for a bit to eat? I don't have anything to do and I don't think I can stand much more time to just think."

Sympathy flashed on his face and he nodded, already dialing the next number. I walked out, and pulled my cell phone out when I was safely in the elevator. After a minute of ringing, Mozzy finally answered with a muffled and annoyed hello. "Can you meet at the diner across from the office?"

"It's not like I'm just twiddling my thumbs here Neal; I do have things to do," I could hear his impatience and imagined he was either cracking a safe right now, or sweeping for bugs.

"Please, Moz; it's important."

Maybe my tone was enough, but the faint clinking sound in the back ground stopped and Moz answered, "It is far more pleasant to receive flowers when you are able to smell them."

It took me a minute as I exited the building to remember who the quote was from, but I never doubted the meaning. I should thank Moz more often for being there for me.

Five minutes and a flirtatious waitress later, Moz slid into the chair across from me. "Okay, spill," he said, straight to the point.

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Well, yes and no. I'll tell you about it later. What's so important that I had to be here now?"

I looked away, before beginning, another pang of concern for Ezzy distracting me, "Did you get anything on the Institute? I know you've only had two days to look into it, and wasn't high on the priority list, but things have…become complicated."

Mozzy leaned back, analyzing possibilities before answering, "I have a couple of sources who know some things, but other than the standard dirt, I don't think I have anything that stands out."

I deflated slightly, having hoped that he would have something…more useful I guess.

I found myself wringing the napkin, and forced myself to stop, an action that was not missed by Mozzy's keen eyes.

"What," he asked, leaning forward, his former impatient attitude replaced by concern.

"I assume you heard of our disappearance yesterday," at this Mozzy nodded, his eyebrows knitting together as the gears in his head began spinning, "We were abducted by two children."

At this, Mozzy almost laughed, his face plastered with disbelief, before my serious face convinced him otherwise. "As it turns out, they were…experiments," I almost choked on the word, but forced myself to continue, "And they actually saved our lives, twice actually. Once we were safe, they left us and called in the FBI to find us, which is why we were at the office now. The problem is that Institute is still hunting them and doing God knows what else with whatever else they have there, with no signs of slowing. Peter plans on taking them down today, and I was hoping we could find something else to help expedite the process."

Mozzy listened without judging, nodding his head at the end, "I knew the government was experimenting on people. What did I tell you about Big Brother? I'm sure their working on mind control next if they haven't finished already!"

He paused a moment, noticing my seriousness, "I'm sure I can do something. I was planning on meeting someone in an hour anyhow. I'll call you if I get anything good. In the meantime, I'll check with a couple other people."

As our waitress passed us, he called out to her, "Could I get my pie to go?"

I added, "I would like my Chef's Salad to go too."

She turned away with a smile and Mozzy finished off his coffee. "Good luck," he offered, pulling out his wallet and accepted the Styrofoam box. I accepted mine and nodded to Mozzy, my mind back on Ezzy. Had she gotten anything to eat today?

I left as soon as I finished paying and headed back to the office. Picking at the salad, I tried not to think too much. The smell of pizza announced the food for the rest of the staff and they flocked over to where the delivery man left it, most of them with their work still in hand and phone in ear.

I leaned back in my chair with a heavy sigh, giving up the attempt to eat. I picked up a pencil and examined it, then spun once or twice in my chair, wishing there was _something_ for me to do.

Finally, I got up and paced. On my fourth loop, Jones stopped me and said Peter wanted a word. I was up the stairs in a second, and walked right in to his office. He looked up and motioned for me to close the door and take a seat.

Once I was seated, Peter's face became very grave, "I want you to sit this one out Neal."

A very long heartbeat later, "Why?"

Another second and the anger gave me words, "Why on earth Peter! I _have_ to come! I've been sitting here for hours, pouring over every possible way I could think to help, and then forced to sit there when I couldn't do anything else. I need to be their when these people are taken down! I know the things to look for, and having another pair of eyes to find what we need is important; we can't miss anything!"

Peter was patient, but when I had vented, he explained, "We don't know what they might have in the building. I need people trained with firearms, and willing to use them. I'm sorry Neal, but you can't come because you can't be issued a weapon to protect yourself with."

I got the point, but that didn't mean I agreed, "I swear I won't leave the group, and if it comes to the point where they need to use those firearms, I will stay out of the way! I'll do anything Peter, just let me be there!"

Peter looked like he was wavering, so I pushed it just a little, treading lightly, "I'm useful to the team, and I'm one of the only four people you have who knows exactly what to look for."

Peter wavered a little more, and I willed him to see it my way and agree.

Finally, he sought middle ground, "You can come with us to the building, but you can't come in until we secure the building and arrest Dr. Michaels. Understand? You get van guarding duty for the first half."

I nodded, crossing my fingers behind my back. At least it was a start; I would find a way to convince him otherwise later.

He waved me off; returning to whatever paperwork was on his desk. I went back down and stared at my salad, wondering if I should try to finish it, or if what we found at the Institute would make me lose it. I had just decided to eat half when my phone went off.

I answered immediately, "Moz?"

"I found something interesting, and concerning. The interesting news is that my contact has photographic evidence of these...winged werewolves in the city, concentrated around the Institute. The concerning news is that they are in the process of moving. As in they've likely been at it for days or even weeks now. They seem to be doing it through…shady means, so everything is going through quickly and quietly. If you don't get them today, you may not be able to. I'm sending you the pictures he gave me. Good luck and be careful; according to this guy, he's seen some other nasty looking creatures that can kill."

"Thanks Moz, I'll be careful, and I'll get these pictures to Peter, I'm sure this Intel can help."

We hung up and practically ran back to Peter's office, hardly knocking before I barged in. "I think you're going to want these," I handed him my phone with the pictures Mozzy sent me and relayed what he had said, including the names of the shady companies.

Peter just grinned and called in Jones, handing him my phone and telling him to run the pictures and the names, adding it to our stock pile of evidence and probable causes.

I felt jittery all over again, getting impatient for the end of the Institute. Maybe Ezzy and Ade could at least have a life where they weren't being hunted. I wondered if they would ever be able to live without that paranoia. I really hoped they could.

Almost two hours later, we were driving to the Institute. I got the familiar adrenaline rush that I used to get before a high profile job. I thought again of how similar it felt to be on both sides of the law. Maybe I could get used to working on this side of the law. It wasn't that bad.

Offhandedly, I wondered if this was anything like going to war. The thought startled me at first, but I supposed it wasn't really that strange. The people around me were either checking and rechecking their equipment and firearms, or trying not to fidget. There was a real possibility that people (including experiments) could be injured or killed today.

That realization unsettled my stomach and I decided it was a bad idea to have eaten any of my salad after all.

When we parked, Peter's team got out of the van, and I slipped out behind them. They were so focused on what was in front of them, I was able to follow.

I made it as far as the front desk when Peter glanced behind him to check on the team and saw me. I cringed from the look he gave me, but he didn't slow down. I think he knew I would have come one way or another, and he really did want my help on this.

Two agents stopped at the desk and began shutting things down, starting with the elevators, so we took the stairs. No one spoke the entire trip. Through our radios, one of the agents at the desk informed of us the coordinates Dr. Michaels was located.

Three minutes later, and the same agent almost frantically warned us that Michaels was on the move, using stairs that weren't monitored on surveillance. We froze, waiting for her to show back up on the screens.

My gut was screaming at me that she was close.

"She's on the first sublevel, and she's requesting your presence," the agent informed us, her voice worried. "Only half of that floor is visible, and she wasn't alone when she went done the stairs, but she is now. It looks like a trap."

Peter looked at me pointedly, but I pretended not to notice. Peter then lead us down, everyone anxious for another reason now.

We were there quickly, and Peter called to her, "I'm here, now how would you like this to go: the hard way, or the easy way."

"Mr. Burke, I hoped you would have seen reason, but I guess you have poorly chosen the lives of the few. You speak as if you have all the cards in your hands, but I can assure you, you don't."

While she was speaking, we edged closer to where she was until all that separated the sight of her from us was a corner. I pushed ahead of several others, but made sure to stay behind Peter, Diana, and Jones.

Just then, the agent radioed us again, "She's going back to where I can't see her."

Peter called trying to goad her, "Dr. Michaels, hiding from us is hardly what I call an ace up your sleeve."

As we rounded the corner, the team fanned out, and I got shoulder to shoulder with Peter, staring at the door Michaels had gone through moments ago.

"Now, now Burke, I wasn't hiding. I was retrieving something," she said as the door slid open, almost in slow motion.

My heart was hammering in my chest and my mouth went dry as the shadowed form of Michaels stepped into the light, a gun in one hand.

The gun that she was tightly pressing to the temple of her hostage.

The gun that she was tightly pressing to the temple of Ade.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Hey everybody, long time no see huh? My computer crapped out on me, and I swear, I'm about ready to take a hammer to it. But enough with my excuses, I have a nice, long chapter, with lots of stuff happening as a peace offering! If it's confusing, I apologize, just ask and I'll be happy to explain! Don't forget to review!

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I stifled a yawn as I followed Ezzy down the pavement, rubbing my eyes and going by sound to keep me on the right path. I wish I could have gotten a power useful for this situation, like sleeping walking, or maybe sleep waking – where you could be asleep and awake at the same time. No wait! I wish those scientists had made me without the need for sleep in the first place!

"How are you holding up buddy," Ezzy leaned back and studied me, a flicker of guilt crossing her face when she saw how tired I was. I instantly tried to stand up taller and ignore my fatigue (and yes, I do know big words like that thank you!).

She slowed down and offered me her hand, keeping us on the fringes of the stream of people, but close enough to be considered a part of the current.

It had been an hour since we stole our breakfast, and I was starting to wonder what her plan was. If the dark sky was visible from above the flood of city lights, I could imagine the first rays of dawn brightening the horizon. It would the ideal cover for escaping the city. I thought we would be leaving New York as soon as we called Mr. Peter's friends.

Ezzy recognized a sign she must have been looking for, and practically dragged me across the street without any warning.

I felt the familiar tingle as she changed our colors again, like she had been doing every hour as we wondered the city. She took us inside one of the buildings and slipped through an 'Employee Only' door. She lead us down several twisty halls until she found another door and led us into a tiny room of cushy seats overlooking an auditorium. Finally, when I couldn't stand not knowing any longer, I tugged hard on her hand and met her annoyed gaze with my curious one.

She smiled and leaned down to whisper, "We're going to watch a Broadway show kiddo."

I looked at her incredulously, but I trusted her enough to follow without questions.

The show had already started, but Ezzy was eagerly following the drama. I rolled my eyes and settled down beside her, the two of us leaning into the shadows of the wall.

I'm sure it was nice and all, but I wound up watching the back of my eyelids instead. I didn't dream much, just flickers of broken memories in time with the music from the show.

The next thing I know, Ezzy gently shakes me awake, and I discovered that she scooped me up into her lap and the show was over. We slipped out before the lights got bright enough to reveal us to anyone below looking up, and I felt much more rested.

Ezzy tapped my hand in two sets of three, our code for, 'Play the lost kid card and I'll steal some food.'

I let go of her hand and wandered away until I couldn't see her, and then I started with wide eyes and cautious calls of mom. As people started looking, I worked my way up to full blown panic and started screaming. Attendants flocked to me and the patrons stopped to stare and/or pity me.

Less than three minutes later, I was tearfully reunited with my equally panicked mother, and we were able to walk away with a stash of food from the concessions stand. I devoured my cotton candy slowly, enjoying the fluffy sugariness.

She waited a few more minutes before speaking, but I could tell she was getting ready to tell me her plan; she always has this look for telling plans.

"We have to try one more time."

I felt some color drain from my face when she said it, but I couldn't say no. I touched the bandage on my arm, which she changed this morning before we bolted. It was really just scabs now, but I didn't want to tangle with any more erasers.

She noticed, and picked me up, (much to my embarrassment), hugging me tightly to her, "I won't let them get you, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah," I said squirming, glaring at people who looked at me.

Ezzy laughed as she sat me down, but held onto my hand. She changed our colors again, I looked over to see a very tan girl in a black trench coat with shiny black hair. She winked at me with brown eyes and ruffled my hair with her other hand.

I looked over at my reflection in one of the shop windows, noting the brown eyes, hair, and freckles. "Really," I had to ask with a scowl, "I hate freckles."

She laughed again, enjoying my suffering.

We walked right into the building, like last time, but the receptionist stopped us, "Do you have an appointment?"

"I thought the building was open to the public," Ezzy said, her voice sugary sweet and slightly confused. I think she's going for a ditsy persona.

"It was, but we have had some security issues recently. You need an appointment to go past this point," the woman practically sneered. I bet she was a white coat in her spare time. I hate white coats. A lot more than I hate freckles.

"Oh, that's terrible, I've been promising to show my daughter where her uncle works," my 'mother' lamented, almost hyperventilating like a stereotypical airhead. I fought the urge to growl when she called me a girl. I guess she was going for a feminine look with the doe-brown eyes and cutesy freckles.

And I won't admit that it makes a smidge of sense since they aren't looking for two girls.

Finally, the woman waved us off, too annoyed to waste more time on us.

Ezzy led us to the bathroom, sniveling about rude people, and after checking to see if the coast was clear, she changed our colors again.

She made herself _way _older, like white hair and wrinkles, and then changed her coat to look like the janitors we saw in the lobby. Grabbing my hand, she made me a red head again, and added enough green to my brown eyes to make them hazel.

We walked out of the bathroom, nabbing a cleaning cart and following the wall, with me hidden from most eyes and cameras beside the cart. We got off the service elevator on the fifth floor, and quickly headed to the secret stairs, avoiding major hallways and their security cameras.

When we got back to the file room where we met Peter and Neal, Ezzy nodded to me to use my power, just in case.

The way I understand it, our (meaning every human) vocal cords vibrate to create sound by disturbing molecules in the air to reach our ears where it is decoded in our brains so we understand the different vibrations.

Like I tried to tell Ezzy a few months ago, it feels like singing to me. I start by vibrating my vocal cords like anyone does to speak or sing, and then…I don't know exactly, but I feel all the vibrations around me, and I can alter those vibrations. I can make a vibration match any other vibration I want, like a car horn or someone's voice. I can also make a vibration cancel out other vibrations.

I sound-proofed the room, and looked over at Ezzy.

She was already on the computer, scowling. "What's wrong," I asked, still nervous about being here in the first place.

"This stupid computer is harder to hack than I thought," she answered, never taking her eyes off of her work.

I started to pace, having nothing else to do. Ezzy was way better with computers than me, so I couldn't help her even if I wanted. Three agonizing minutes later, she gave slapped the table and grinned wildly, the files she wanted being downloaded onto a flash drive she must have stolen at some point.

"We'd better get out of here faster than ASAP; there might have been a silent alarm that I missed for downloading files like tha –"

She was interrupted by the sound of a building alarm, and dozens of feet headed our way. "Or it could have triggered a regular alarm," she said dryly, running with me for the windows.

Just as we were in sight of them, a white coat woman stepped out between us and the windows with a gun in her hand, pointed right at us – well, me actually.

Ezzy never slowed down as she pushed me out of the way and barreled forward, striking the woman and sending the gun skittering past me.

For a long second, I stared at the gun, just out of my immediate reach, and I thought long and hard about at least picking it up.

Then I looked over at Ezzy, who was shouting at me to run for it, while barreling into an eraser.

My heart was hammering in my chest and I felt like freezing up. But I wasn't leaving here without Ezzy, so I turned back and reached for the gun. I could feel the cold hard metal under my fingertips, and if it were possible, my heart sped up even more.

The next second, a furry foot stomped down on it, and I looked up into the wacky grinning face of an eraser. The second after that I felt something heavy hit the side of my head, and the whole world went black.

* * *

I woke up slowly, and the first thing I registered was the smell of a hospital, like the kind my mom used to work at and take me to visit, you know, _before_.

I was in a cage, just like the kind they had us in before we escaped. I felt like I was going to be sick.

As I fought the nausea, I forced myself to look around – there had to be some way out of here. And then I realized there was someone watching me.

She was a girl, in the cage beside mine, studying me carefully, but not speaking. She had long curly brown hair, light freckles, and huge (like abnormally because of experiments) black eyes.

"Hello," she tried, in a very small voice, and leaned forward a fraction to better see if I was friendly or hostile.

"Hi," I answered, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety in seeing someone else like me. Ezzy and I had been the only ones at our little facility.

On seeing I wasn't hostile, she got as close to my cage as she could and introduced herself, "I'm Mouse, and as you can guess from my name, I have _Mus musculus _DNA. It's latin for the common house mouse, and I've been in this facility for three years."

"Oh, um, my name's Ade. I have some kind of bird DNA, but I don't know what kind. And I just got here."

Mouse giggled, revealing her oversized front teeth, "Most of us don't know what our other DNA is, but I have good hearing and I listened closely whenever the white coats talked to find out what I was."

I nodded, and then I realized something important. In fact, I felt horrible for not realizing this until just now, "Hey Mouse, was there another bird girl in here that came with me?"

She shook her head, "You're the only bird-kid I've seen."

My heart sank. I hoped she was okay. She had to be; she's Ezzy!

Mouse eagerly spoke again, "Let me introduce you to the others!"

"Others," I asked, looking around to see other kids in cages.

"That's Hook, in the cage below mine one level and to the right. He has sugar glider DNA, but he can't speak. He's been here almost a year now."

"In the cage beside Hook's is Rake. He can speak, but he won't. He was here before me. I think he's got something like gopher DNA, but I'm not sure."

"In the first cage on the wall across form us is Pan. He came here about a month after I did, and he's part armadillo."

"Hey," the boy called, his voice faint and disinterested. "Hey," I called back, sort of glad that one other would speak to me.

"And last but not least, in the cage left of Pan's is Maze. She's been here two years as of Monday last week, and we think she has squirrel DNA."

"Hello, it's nice to meet you Ade," a soft but jittery voice called.

"Nice to meet you too Maze," I said politely.

Turning back to Mouse, I wanted to ask her about escaping, but I was a little afraid to. The white coats could be listening.

Mouse continued, "Things usually work like clockwork around here, so as long as you get used to the schedule, it's not so bad. Just last week we got a whole hour to –"

Mouse was interrupted by two white coats with a dolly. They detached my cage from the wall, and loaded me onto the dolly. I looked back to Mouse, and from the corner she had shrunken to, she shook her head. This was not a part of the schedule.

All of them were looking at me, even Rake and Hook. They had varying degrees of sympathy and fear in their gazes, certainly not making me feel any better.

The white coats took me to the woman Ezzy had tackled earlier and left me with her.

She was sporting a nice bruise, and I felt a swelling of pride that Ezzy had given this woman a thing or two to remember her by.

"Where's Ezzy," I asked right away.

"My, my little boy, you like getting to business don't you," with no reaction from me, she continued. "Very well," she paused as she circled my cage, "she left you behind and flew away as fast as she could."

"You're lying," I shouted at her, feeling insulted she would think that lie would work on me. "That's bull; Ezzy would never leave me. Where do you have her!?"

"I see fooling you won't be an option," she said coldly, and I hoped Ezzy would be proud of me for standing up to the white coat.

"Do you want the truth?"

I was suddenly afraid, and couldn't find the words to answer.

She smiled again, and toyed with her hair just to draw it out.

"I would have put her in the same room as you, but in her condition, she wouldn't have made it," cold fear turned my stomach to lead.

After another pause for my suspense, she continued her tale, "I don't know how much you remember, but just before you were knocked out, you fought an eraser – that's what you call them, right? – over control of a gun."

"You never got your hands completely on it, but I'm afraid that during the struggle, the gun went off, and right into Ezzy, as I believe you insist on calling her."

I could just feel the blood drain from my face, "That's right, you almost killed your 'sister'. I suggest you cooperate, or we let her die."

She left suddenly, and her words replayed over and over in my mind. I felt numb, cold, empty. I would have felt afraid for Ezzy if I wasn't in such shock.

When she returned asking if I would obey, I only nodded. I was a docile puppet, unable to understand what she was saying or understand when she was talking to someone else.

I did feel the cold metal of the gun against my temple, but it felt refreshing, real. I didn't recognize Peter or Neal, I didn't know anything.

Until a blur of pure blond fury slammed into us from nowhere.

And then I registered Ezzy.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **A quick shout out to all of my readers and reviewers: I love you guys sooo much! You are what makes me want to keep writing this story. I want to finish it for you guys, and I really hope you guys have enjoyed it so far. I haven't finished the rest of the chapters, but the end is near. (Doesn't that sound ominous?) We're looking at four or five more chapters depending on how certain things play out when I actually write them. I'd like to hear your thoughts on how it might end, and the things you've most liked or disliked. Thank you guys so much!

* * *

Life can be ironic, ya' know? The day you have planned for hanging at the pool, a thunderstorm breaks out. The night you plan on a bonfire is the night it snows in the middle of summer…well, that doesn't happen as often, but you get the idea. My life in particular has been touched by cruel irony. One of the careers I seriously thought of pursuing was a geneticist. Today I am the result of a genetic experiment. Just a second ago, I was all set to get the heck out of Dodge (with my file), and wouldn't you know it, here I am trying to rescue Ade.

It really was terrible. I think that's the best possible way to describe it in one sentence. Let that be a life lesson dear reader: Never trust hacking skills you learned from a crazy homeless guy with a laptop.

Because apparently, I didn't notice a back door trigger that alerted someone to what I was doing. A short investigation later by some IT guy and wha-la, I was busted. Without knowing it of course, not until it was too late to do anything about it.

I tried to get Ade out; that was my first priority. I didn't care what happened to me after that. I ran right into the nearest fuzzy wolf-guy after dropping the gun-wielding white-coat chick, and fought like a crazy momma-bear. I was doing fairly well, considering that these guys were so much bigger, stronger, and more experienced then me. I guess I surprised them with my crazy charge; they expected me to run, not fight.

But then their surprise wore off, and I got the wind knocked out of me. I shouted again for Ade to get out, seeing him on the floor but not held down. He made to obey me, but then he turned the other way.

I would have been shouting at him for not listening, but three particularly big erasers got a hold of me. The bulking mutants were impeded in their actions by the limited space and sheer volume of their numbers.

I took full advantage of that, throwing my dead weight first one way and then the other, getting them to back up, if only slightly, as my actions pushed them even closer to their pressing brothers.

Frustrated at the lack of immediate progress, I bit the nearest hand/paw/whatever. The eraser howled and released me to cradle his paw.

I acted instantly, elbowing another in the face and crushing the third one's foot with mine. I was free then, for a second, as four more pairs of arms reached for me greedily, stepping over their wounded friends.

I made a mad dash for the windows, almost punching through the glass to get out. I looked back, and I felt like ten erasers had just punched me in the gut as hard as they could. I saw two of them dragging Ade back by his arms, unconscious.

I leaned forward, prepared to go back in for him, when a winged eraser grabbed my shoulders from behind and pulled me outside with him.

Let's just say the sap didn't even know what hit him as he landed one roof over, barely conscious. His buddies wanted a piece of me too, but I was out of patience.

I roared, the raw feelings of desperation and anger boiling over, and I beat them senseless too.

It was weird; I had never felt like that before. If I had been a color, it would be red, pure crazy red. I couldn't even think. I just dodged, ducked, weaved, and struck out as hard as I could. When one of them landed a blow, I didn't even feel it.

I was scared myself, in whatever cubbyhole the real me had hidden.

For a moment, I finally felt a little like what those white-coats had been calling me: a weapon.

And that was the thought I needed to stop.

But instead of doing the hero thing – flying back in there with trumpets and yellow flashes of glory, taking back Ade and fleeing – I ran. It was all I could do at the time.

I couldn't take them all on in a straight fight, and I wouldn't be a weapon. So I ran, and the whole time, I hated myself.

Once I made it a good distance, I covered my scent by doing the only thing I could think of: dumpster swimming. I crawled under an overhang on the nearest roof and sat there for minutes, carefully thinking of nothing at all.

Then I sat up, shedding my trench coat and putting on a "clean" hoodie. After which I slapped myself.

I mean like full-out-leave-a-red-hand-print-behind slap myself.

I was getting my game face on for the rescue mission. I would not surrender or give in! I would not let them win!

Springing to my feet, and snapping out my wings, I took off for the Institute. I would save Ade, and we would both get out of New York, together.

All I had to do was sneak in, get him, and get out. This time, I was going full camouflage mode.

Before I came in sight of the building, I made the light around my body absorb all the white light, rendering me invisible to the naked eye. Well, mostly invisible. While I was moving, someone could see my outline. I would just have to be slow about it.

Swooping for a lower level, I slide in a partially open window, forcing it down to fit all of me. I bit back a loud curse and cry of pain because yes, having your feathers plucked before they are ready to come out hurts ten times worse than yanking out a few hairs.

Sucking it up, I crouched in what looked like an abandoned faculty lounge, a layer of dust covering most surfaces. I sneezed, against my will, and immediately looked for the eraser to come charging in. When nothing happened, I relaxed a fraction and made for the door.

I was half ashamed when the theme song from Mission Impossible started playing in my head, and believe me, it was an effort not to hum it out loud.

Pausing just long enough to press my ear to the door and check for footsteps, I pushed the door open quietly, slipping out and closing it soundlessly. My heartbeat picked up when I realized something important: I didn't know where Ade was.

'_Way to go_,' I congratulated myself, picking a direction at random.

I took off running on cats' feet, silent and speedy. (Which it would have been cool of those stupid white-coats to give me a little cat DNA [my favorite animal], but no, they feel better using only one set of new DNA at a time. Lame-o's.)

I rounded a corner and almost fell on my backside trying to back-pedal. I pressed myself tightly to the wall, not even daring to breathe as two employees continued towards me.

"Did you see that Tom?"

"See what Stew," the taller of the two asked in a tired voice.

"I don't know exactly," 'Stew' stumbled for words, "It was a-a-a ripple of some kind. It was right up there."

'Tom' sighed, rolling his eyes, "You haven't slept in three days Stew; you're probably just imagining it."

"Yeah-yeah, I guess," he answered, not looking convinced. Shaking it off, he changed the subject, "I wish the boss would quit riding us to get this done ahead of schedule."

'Tom' shrugged his shoulders, looking pretty tired too, "I tried to tell her that we would be more productive if she let us sleep, but that witch threatened to put me off the team if I ever – and I quote – "_If you defy me again you worthless little maggot. You don't even deserve to lick my shoes. I'm changing the world, with or without you. Now get back to work before I change my mind about forgiving you._" I wanted to say some chose words to that – that, Ice Queen!"

His companion nodded, stifling a yawn, their conversation fading as they got further away.

Letting out my breath, I couldn't help but contemplate their words. What were these people up to?

I continued going the way they had come from, hoping that whatever project they were working on would be close to Ade.

Ade had better not be the project they were working on…

I rounded three more corners before coming to a dead end. Where was their lab?

I cautiously checked all the rooms, but didn't see a lab. I went to the last door, not expecting to find anything, and discovered a stairway.

I paused, not remembering having seen this stairway before. Thinking back on what I knew of the building, I figured that these had to be on the other side of the building that the stairs I had found the first trip here.

Then I had to guess which way to go. Up, or down?

Doing an enie-meanie-moe, I started jogging up the stairs. I was up about three flights before I saw another door. I opened it slowly, looking and listening for anyone.

I then went to the next door, peering in.

My heart picked up the tempo: there were cages!

Ade just had to be in here!

I went in, as quietly as possible with shaking hands.

I peered into the cages, barely stopping to look at the little faces that weren't my brother's, feeling a stab of guilt for each one that I passed.

Most of them were asleep, or at least trying to sleep, and only a few noticed something was up: smelling me, seeing the ripple, or having noticed the door opening and closing on its own.

Thankfully, none of them made any noise. I counted about eleven in this room, only half of the cages with experiments, but none of them was Ade. My heart sank about a foot.

I quietly made my way out and on to the next door. And the one after that.

All those faces were burned in my memory, and I felt like my heart wouldn't be able to take much more. But I still made myself go to the next. It was the last room in the hallway, my last chance…

This room was less than a quarter full, like most rooms, and I glanced into each of them quickly. Not seeing Ade, I almost left. But my attention was drawn to a missing cage.

Odd, none of the other rooms had any cages missing. Why was this room different?

"Who's there," a soft cry echoed in the silent room, full of fear and nervous terror.

I sucked in a breath debating as to whether or not it was smart to reveal myself. But what if they knew about the missing cage? Could it be that it was the cage that held Ade?

"Why is there a cage missing," I answered, just as quietly.

A girl, scrunched as far as she could get into the corner away from me sniffed the air, flashing me a glimpse of her rodent-like teeth. She answered shyly, but a little more confidence and volume, "It was taken. Who are you?"

"Ezzy," I answered after hesitating, feeling nervous, knowing that if I got attached to her, I would have to take her with me.

"My name is Mouse," she offered, slowly uncurling herself and stepping towards the direction she sensed I was in, "I'm part mouse and I've been in this facility for three years now."

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say to that.

"What are you, how long have you been here, how did you get here, and why are you invisible," she asked all at once, her little face now pressed against the wire closest to me, eager for conversation.

"I'm part bird. I haven't and won't be here long. I'm here for my brother, and I'm invisible because I can be."

"Get us out of here," came a raspy voice, like one that hasn't been used in a long time.

"Raker," Mouse exclaimed in surprise, "you never talk!"

My heart almost stopped, terror of telling them they would be left behind crippling me. What should I do? How should I say it? Should I just run for it now?

"I'm just here for my brother," I finally said, to the raspy voice.

"Is his name Ade," the voice asked, cold like steel.

My heart hammering ever faster for a new reason, I almost choked on my words, "Maybe. What do you know?"

"I can help you – we can help you, if you let us out. We know this place, and I know where he will be," the voice was cool, even, never faltering.

"Alright," I answered, opening his door first (oh the miracle of bobby pins; never leave home without one). Handing him one of my spares, we had everyone else out in short order.

Handing out the rest of my pins, we split up, heading in groups to the rest of the rooms, freeing everyone and rallying them to a single cause: elude recapture and escape.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Hello again, long time no write. For those of you who saw my message on my profile, I'm sorry I didn't get this up months ago, but it's here now and there's more to come soon. For those of you who didn't see the message, I was on hiatus from the end of January until now. But I'm officially back, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the chapters to come!

* * *

I used to envy Max, back when I was living - well, being held captive is more like it - in the School outpost they tweaked us at. She had a family in The Flock; a family she had her entire life. I used to have a family kind of like that too, before the School got them.

Now though, I don't envy having to lead a rag-tag band of merry mutants against an institution. It really sucked.

My merry band of fifty-nine mutants was disorganized and very unwilling to listen to me. I might be the one ultimately responsible for their new freedom, but they were not willing to give me their loyalty. Being the leader sucks.

According to Rake, all fifty-nine experiments were either brought in recently or were some of the few mutants that were too afraid to leave beck when Max and the Flock crashed through.

About half of them ran wild before I even finished my speech, soon to set off all kinds of alarms and bring down the wrath of the erasers I was sure. (At least the confusion and chaos they were sure to cause would give Ade and I some cover as we busted out.)

Most of the rest formed their own merry bands after refusing my leadership and attempted to get out as quickly as possible. Mouse, Rake, and six others actually listened and agreed to help me. Well, Rake had agreed to that before I freed him, and he appeared to be keeping his word.

For a second, one very, _very_ brief second, the thought of calling Neal and Peter flashed through my mind. Like exactly less than a second; so brief it was like it never happened. Because I would never call them. Ever. Even if I was lying in a ditch somewhere with a cell phone conveniently handy.

I took a deep breath, trying to get a grip. I needed my game face for this, (and maybe a bucket load of adrenaline with advanced kung fu skills). Yeah, I would totally like being a ninja. Wait – not helping, focus!

I looked over my group and asked them for any powers and names. I couldn't use them if I didn't know their abilities. (And names would be useful so I knew what to call the one I was about to order. Less confusion that way.)

Mouse spoke first, "I'm Mouse, and I have super-hearing and sense of smell."

Rake spoke next, "Call me Rake, and I have super-human strength."

"I'm Pan, and I can shrink to half my size and grow back at will," a curly redheaded boy said next.

"I'm Bug, and I have x-ray vision."

"I'm Thirty, and I heal super fast."

"I'm Nose, and I don't have any powers. I just have a lot of hair," said an adorable little fluff ball. I tried not to laugh at him, but his last comment made me want to smile.

"I'm King Henry, and I can remember everything I ever hear or see. That's it."

King Henry was a very short and serious looking bald kid. He also made me want to laugh, his choice of name matched with his disproportionate stature humorous.

The last boy however, was not speaking at all.

Mouse noticed my stare at the silent kid, and she spoke for him, "He can't talk. His name is Hook, and the white-coats say he can shape shift or something like that."

I nodded as I analyzed the situation and made a plan. All this done in less than two minutes, mind you. Call it grace under pressure or whatever.

"Alright, listen up! Bug, you will take the lead. Your job is to look for any threats, and then relay a warning to the rest of us. Rake, you are immediately behind Bug. Your job is to attack and incapacitate the threats that Bug finds if we can't go around. Thirty, you're beside Rake. Your job is to help him with his job, since you heal fast. I will be third. From there, I can quickly find out the situation in front and give new commands to the forward and rear sections. I can also join Rake and Thirty in stopping any threats. King Henry, you are after me. You know a lot about this facility and the people you've seen and heard in it. I will be relying on you for intell. Nose, you are behind King Henry. Your job is to be the communicator between me and the people behind you. Pan and Hook are together after Nose. Your guys' job is to get small and use that to your advantage in tripping up any enemies that come from behind. Mouse, you're last. Your job is to listen and smell for any threats coming from behind us. Warn the boys in front of you so they can take action in slowing the enemy down until word gets to the front and help is sent back."

That was probably the longest speech I've ever given in my life, and I had to pat myself on the back for this one. I came up with and explained a brilliant plan very quickly.

If I ever met Max, I'd have to challenge her to a leadership match. I think I could at least win a round of spontaneous-but-good-planning. Maybe.

All of them but two gave me confident nods. Then I wanted to kick myself. The youngest two didn't understand half the words I'd used.

At least the rest had figured out the gist of what I was trying to tell them. Small comforts I suppose. I'd never beat Max at anything at the rate I was going…

They lined up like I had instructed, the young two going where I pointed. Then we were off, me telling Bug where to go after consulting King Henry.

It was tense and slow; the kids were unused to being out of cages and walking for so long. Especially without the white-coats prodding them around.

I felt bad, I really did, but Ade was higher on my priority list.

King Henry, as it turned out, had over-heard one of the white-coats talking about a bird kid.

The two scientists/henchmen had come into the wrong room by mistake with the dolly. They argued and complained about having to transport the "feathered brat all the way to the witch's lair." According to Henry, the big boss lady, Dr. Karen Micheals, was hated by her employees and called names such as witch. Henry also knew where the "witch's lair" was.

We were so close when everything went so wrong.

The wild kids finally triggered something, because Bug signaled us to stop, explaining that there was eraser activity all over.

I ground my teeth in frustration, "Is there any way around them Bug?"

The chocolate-skinned girl shook her head vigorously; I sighed.

"What's the route with the fewest?"

Bug told us, giving us the exact number and locations of our obstacles.

My new little troopers looked at me apprehensively, but not one of them asked to go back or abort the mission. My mother instincts kicked in and I was angry with myself for even putting these kids in any kind of danger. I should order them to escape and try to find some kind of a life outside the Institute's cruel walls.

I had just opened my mouth to say such, but I was stopped by an exclamation from Bug, "There's cops!"

"What," I asked, brow creased in my genuine confusion.

"FBI according to their jackets," Bug explained, "Whatever that stands for. They're arresting people."

I felt ice climb up my spin, "Have they encountered any erasers yet?"

"No, the erasers keep pulling back every time a cop gets close. I don't think they want to be seen."

That's good, for now. It gave me a little time to warn the FBI. I had a gut feeling that Neal and Peter were out there somewhere, and they were in more danger than they realized. The white coats might take this chance to get rid of them for helping us. I really didn't want to see them get hurt.

"Alright guys," I said, motioning for them to huddle, "Here's the new plan. Those FBI guys will help us, but they won't know us from the erasers in the confusion. So I need you to find any kids you can and find an empty room to hide in until things settle down. Stay in the same formation, and be sure to look out for erasers; protect each other if you can't get around some erasers. Okay?"

"What about you," Rake asked, his serious eyes telling me he already knew what I was going to say.

"I have to save my brother guys. But don't worry; we'll be okay. You guys should start a regular life outside of here. I happen to know some of the guys in the FBI; they are nice people and they will help you find new lives."

Mouse, Thirty, and Bug looked hopeful. Their abnormalities could be overlooked; they would be fine in normal houses. Nose looked doubtful, and rightfully so. I hoped he could be shaved or something so that he could pass as normal. King Henry and Rake both had a look that told me they were not interested in a normal life. Pan and Hook just looked confused, and I sincerely hoped they could find a niche somewhere.

King Henry gave me some final directions, and then my little group left without me, heading for the hallway of storage rooms a floor or two up to wait out the arresting. Mouse, Bug, and Hook gave me sorrowful looks. Mouse and Pan had tears in their eyes. King Henry and Rake gave me silent nods, and the others waved good-bye.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took off. I would never forget them; those brave little fellow mutants and freaks.

I stared down the long drop between the winding flights of stairs. When I was a kid in elementary school (and don't judge me for this by the way) I used to do the same thing and wonder what it would feel like to jump down that drop.

Back then, I used to imagine it would feel kind of like flying until I landed at the bottom and became human pudding. Unless I could do a ninja roll when I got to the bottom, or if I could grab something to slow my fall. I know; I was a weird elementary kid.

Now, I was going to do it. Three levels at a time, I was going to repel to the bottom.

(P.S. Unless you are a mutant bird-freak like me, do not attempt this at home. You know what, even if you are a mutant like me, don't try this at home.)

I climbed up the railing and crouched for just a moment. I had to be crazy. No sane person would ever think of this let alone actually do it. Even another bird kid would decline because there was no way to catch yourself with your wings in the narrow span. Yep, I was insane.

Instead of jumping, I just sort of leaned forward until I fell. Then I counted three floors and snagged a railing. In the span of like two or three seconds mind you. I couldn't afford mistakes here.

The jolt of stopping almost popped my shoulder out of its socket (which hurts a lot in case you didn't know already), and I bit my cheek to keep from saying something really inappropriate for younger audiences.

Calling an audible (don't ask how I remember what a stupid football play is called when I never used to watch the sport before all this, because I really don't know the answer), I decided to do two floors instead of three.

With a wince for the anticipated pain to come, I let go of my hold.

Two floors later, my pit stop was much smoother. Pretty soon, I had the hang of it and was dropping at a good pace. Isn't this called parkhour or something? I would be so boss at that.

Arriving at the bottom floor, about seven levels below the ground floor, I slipped smoothly through the door I jimmied open. I went invisible again, once more instructing the light around me to bend in a way that absorbed itself. This caused all color of every surface to "disappear."

Going slow enough, the outline wasn't so obnoxious, and the scientists from earlier probably wouldn't have noticed it if I wasn't hurrying down the hall they were entering.

I think I'll call the outline the "Bubble of Invisibility" from now on. It's shorter and accurate enough for me. (No, I didn't have time to come up with a super awesome name. Just try to sue me, I dare you.)

As far as I have figured it out, the bubble occurs because the light is trying to adjust to new surroundings. I guess you could say it was overcompensating because I have to hide a new and different amount of light every time I moved.

Anyway you slice it; I'll take mostly invisible Bubble of Invisibility over being fully visible in the middle of enemy territory any day.

Following King Henry's directions, I arrived just in time to see Peter and Neal with some other guys on my right calling out to someone in a room to my left. I stood perfectly still, a little stunned to see them again.

Then the blonde whitecoat from earlier came out of the room. She had a gun…pointed to Ade's temple.

I didn't need to think about it twice.

I just moved.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! I hope you had a great summer. I was so sure that I would have plenty of time to write, edit, upload, and repeat, but well, what can I say? The whole summer evaporated and I barely finished writing this before it was over.  
I'm so excited about this chapter and the next few chapters.  
Remember when I promised that Max and the Flock would come in later? Well, it's almost later!  
Enjoy and Review!

* * *

Stewart Richard Cottinghedge the III was one of the top professionals in his field. He graduated early from high school and three top universities.

He had been sucked into Itex's dream of creating the perfect evolution of humanity, but he never thought he would be trading his morals, and seemingly his very soul, to create hybrids that would survive a man-made apocalypse. An apocalypse Itex would personally arrange. He had not signed up for that.

But between the threats, bonuses for success, and the constant reminder this horrible scheme would not take effect until after he lived a very long, comfortable life, Stew just accepted it. He even justified it.

The government was backing it, or at least, the part of the overall plan that they knew about. Even if someone told the officials what was happening, they would not want to hear their money was being wasted and their reputations would be ruined. They would spend hours pouring over how revealing what Itex was really doing would ruin the economy, incite undue panic, and whatever else the suit-wearing monkeys could come up with before they even heard or saw evidence of what was really going on.

Stew learned very early on that the American government was not the highest power in the land. Big companies bought, bribed, infiltrated, and bullied their way into the government to steer it in whatever direction best suited them.

Stew just wanted to have his cake and to eat it too.

One man could not change the mess he was swimming in.

Stew didn't see why he should waste his time and risk his life for something so futile.

But one thing was really bothering him. It bothered him more than the kids in the cages, more than the apocalypse plot, and even more than his irritating, nationally wanted, for crimes against humanity, boss Karen Michaels.

Kara Matthews was a sweet girl that he had had the pleasure of working with a few times. If he was not married to his work, he would have acted on the idea of a relationship with her that he had entertained from time to time.

She was just a research assistant without the clearances to know the depths of the things Itex was doing. She was a doe-eyed enthusiast of science that thought she was helping humanity. Her idealism was infectious, and he had always felt better after talking to her.

When she disappeared, he didn't know what had happened. She was there one day, and the next she didn't show up for work. He was disappointed; he missed her being there. He figured she had taken a day off. She had mentioned something about having a kid and an ex-husband. It must have been something to do with that.

Then he overheard the, _Ice Witch_, mention something about disposing of the evidence over the phone. Not too unusual, coming from her, but something made him pause. He still wasn't sure just what it was, but he leaned in to catch more of what she was saying. He guessed it was a higher up, judging by the amount of time they were talking to her and her quick, one-word responses.

Just as he was about to move on, she said something that made him go cold inside. "Ms. Matthews managed to send the entire file to several e-mail addresses before I could stop her. We have no choice but to speed up the move. I have everyone working overtime to scrub shop and start over in our next location."

Stew hurried away clenching his fists, not out of anger, but out of an attempt to stabilize himself. Thoughts were racing through his mind faster than he could process, and he needed something to ground him to reality.

Slumping in his chair once he made it to his office, Stew didn't know what to do.

He had known they were moving, but he thought the frantic pace was due to his boss's impatience, not a security breach. A security breach caused by Kara.

He shuddered, realizing why she wasn't at work.

The next day, he was still shaken up about it. Rumors flew around about all sorts of things, from an intrusion of more mutants to the possible continued investigation of the FBI. Stew didn't really pay attention to the office gossip any way, so he ducked out of those conversations when they got started around him. He was a little preoccupied mourning Kara, silently and in his own way.

He hadn't realized how attached to her he had really become. Around every corner of the drab sterile halls something managed to bring back a memory of her smile, her laugh, or her debates with him about everything from quantum physics to metaphysics.

Scrubbing his face to banish her image for the fifth time that morning, Stew felt the guilt begin to creep up again.

He had accidently slipped up when they were debating and mentioned something about the project he was working on. At her question, he tried to cover up. After a few more close calls, he managed to give her an answer that placated her. Or so he thought.

Apparently she was not satisfied and had gone digging for the truth. Unprepared for the truth, she had foolishly tried to do something about it. He wished she were there so he could shake her shoulders and ask her if it was worth. Foolish, foolish, foolish! What had she been thinking?

Despite the momentary anger, he found himself once more achingly guilty. It was his fault; he had messed up. What happened to her was entirely his fault. How he wished he would have known! There were a thousand things he could have done differently! There were a million words he could have used to sway her. If only.

Stew didn't look up at the knock on his door; he didn't bother saying anything either. A moment later, his friend Tom, another lead scientist on his team, clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Stew, what are you moping about now? I know things are busy right now, but by the end of the week, we'll be settled in the next location and everything will go back to normal," Tom tried to reassure his friend.

"No," Stew answered him heavily, "I don't think everything will be exactly the same."

Trying to take it as a joke, Tom pushed his shoulder teasingly, "Well you're right, it will be a lot sunnier and a lot less noisy where we are going. I hear the company will actually pay for a golf club membership."

"I'm not one for it myself and heaven knows we don't get holidays, but I was thinking, we should enjoy the sun and let its thermo-nuclear rays start the vitamin-D producing chemical reactions in our skin while we swing metal clubs around in a more civilized manner than our genetic ancestors, all the while pretending we know what we're doing. Okay?"

Any other day, and Stew would have just been able to accept his friend's attempt to cheer him up. The problem with today was the injustice and unfairness of what happened to Kara.

"_Tom_," Stew nearly hissed at his friend with a raised voice, "you know what I mean!"

All humor evaporated from Tom's face as he commanded, "Lower your voice Stew."

When Stew did nothing more than glare at him, Tom continued speaking, "Do you really think you're the only person here who gets bothered by what goes on sometimes? Do you think you're the only person who flat out wishes they didn't have to do something they thought was really, really wrong?"

"It happens! We've all been there at some point, and most of us go there more than once for Pete's sake!"

The two friends and co-workers stared at each other for long moments before Stew responded, "This time it's different."

Tom shook his head, "Come on Stew. Whatever it is, it doesn't really matter compared to the greater good. The work we are doing here is the future; it's the survival and evolution of the human species! Can't you look past this one little thing in the here and now for that?"

Stew was silent at first. He had said much the same to others who would come to him with an ethical dilemma they were facing. He was willing to experiment (or worse) on _children_ (because that was what the numbers really were) without blinking too much about it because he knew he was helping bring about the greater good. He could go to sleep each night because he could reassure himself that what he was doing wasn't wrong in light of that.

But for the first time, his self-preservation instincts and self-reassurances were failing him. He was thoroughly disgusted by everything he had done and said over the last twelve years of his life as he saw it reflected in his friend.

Kara had been right.

Kara had been right, and his job now was to make sure that what she started was finished. His life and work were not that important in retrospect.

Tom, of course, was waiting for him to snap back to 'reality' and get on with the "good work." So Stew forced a smile and nodded, reassuring his friend he just needed a few minutes to shrug it off.

Tom left with a smile and promise of coffee sometime outside of their workplace. Stew forced the smile on his face to stay there until Tom was well out sight. Then he went to work, just not on the work the Institute usually paid him for.

Hours later, after his lunch break had long come and gone, Stew eyed the hard drive in his hand. Here was everything the authorities would need to shut down The Institute and possibly Itex, as well as cures to some of the mutations they created or forced on experiments. The problem was who to give it to and how to give it to them.

He doubted whistle-blower laws would be able to protect him, so he was not against finding a method of delivery that would let him keep his life while he was at it.

As it turned out, Stew did not have to go looking for an answer. The answer came to him.

Lights flashed unaccompanied by any kind of sound and bulking Lupine hybrids burst forth from the upper corridors already shifted. (Which he found foolish. What good was superior strength when your size significantly decreased or eliminated all together your maneuverability?)

He would not be the first to credit the Lupine hybrids as his company's most intelligent creation.

He immediately tucked the hard drive away on his person and out of sight, then moved to scrub his office and lab, as was protocol. The Lupine hybrids made the destruction of materials much easier.

After doing his part, he grimaced slightly at the loss of evidence to support his information. No matter.

It protected him from being discovered as the mole, and part of the information he had obtained named the three most likely locations where The Institute, or its offspring The School, would relocate to.

He was calmly filling out with the other employees when all of a sudden, a squad of men and women came through the main entrance, shouting and waving weapons around.

Stew slowed to a stop gradually, so surprised that he honestly didn't know what to think or do. Most of the others froze as well, but some fled the other way.

Some of the Lupines fled as well, but many of them charged.

Stew squinted and finally made out F-B-I on one of the officers, as well as S-W-A-T on another.

Everything happened so quickly after that.

The agents repelled the Lupines at first, but they were quickly pushed back. Stew stood there afraid that they would actually start killing law enforcement officials when a new group entered the fray.

To his great surprise, a group of five or so mutants ran snarling at the Lupines. Divided between two fronts, the Lupines were subdued in no time.

The other employees around him started to flee, but Stew just stood there with what, he was sure, must have been a dumbstruck half-grin. He did not resist arrest when they got to him, and he walked with light steps downstairs to the foyer. He spoke to them as soon as he was sure no employee could here him.

A few moments later, he was brought to a very angry looking senior agent to hand over the drive, which he had tightly clenched in his hand.

It was perfect! The FBI got their information, and Stew could walk away without the company knowing that it was him that gave the information instead of the agents finding it on their own.

He tried to keep from smiling as they loaded him in the van. The whole thing was just so surreal.

From the moment he heard the silent alarm to the moment he handed over the hard drive into the hands of FBI Special Agent Peter Burke, everything had just fallen into place. Stew hadn't even tried!

It made him wonder if there was really a god out there or not. If there wasn't, then he was hard-pressed to find a better explanation for how things happened.


End file.
